Watch and See
by JiffyKate
Summary: Her sexual experience is limited, at best. She's never found pleasure in it, so what's the point? Now, though, she wants what he's giving. Seeing the women fall apart against his window has her yearning and wanting to the point she almost combusts sitting on the ledge, merely an observer. What would it be like if she were one of them?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

His large palms and long fingers are pressed firmly against the glass, while her pale white back slides vigorously up and down, her mess of red hair all over the place.

Everything I observe on the other side of that window hits somewhere deep within me, igniting a fire I didn't know was possible.

I watch.

I see.

I feel.

Her legs unravel from his waist, and he spins her around. She braces her hands against the window as her mouth drops open, and he enters her from behind. I get the first glimpse of her face, and she's beautiful. But they all are. Her features are soft and delicate.

This is his favorite position. He takes almost every woman like this. And since it's a favorite of his, it's also a favorite of mine. Well, a favorite to watch. I've only ever had sex in the missionary position, but I've got a good imagination.

I continue to watch. He pushes; she pushes. He pulls; she surrenders. Sometimes, it's slow and sensual. Other times, it's fast and hard. It's up to him. He sets the pace. The women are merely at his mercy, but I never see them leave without a satisfied, sated expression. So I can only guess that it's as good for them as it is for him… and for me.

Her beautiful face contorts as she throws her head back. Judging by the way her mouth is hanging open and her throat is moving, I imagine she's screaming, probably his name.

He bends her over farther, his strong hands gripping her torso as his hips collide with hers, and he continues to thrust in and out forcefully. The sweat coating his chest accentuates the definition of his muscles. Gritted teeth and a tight jaw tell me he's getting close, which disappoints me because I could watch him for hours.

I let out a breath I've been holding, licking my dry lips as I watch him push in even harder, his movements becoming erratic.

I probably shouldn't watch. I'm sure some would think it's perverse.

I don't have a fetish, per se, but I do have to admit I get off.

I'd have to be dead not to.

Eventually, his body relaxes, and he pulls out, quickly walking to a nearby trashcan and disposing of the condom. His firm backside is almost as good as the front. I bite my lip, watching the muscles in his back. I want that. I want him.

She disappears from sight, probably going to the bathroom to get cleaned up. He continues to walk around the living room naked. He's still somewhat erect, and even in this state, it's something that makes my mouth water and my imagination run wild.

I'm definitely going to have to take a bath before the ice cream tonight. There's no way I can stand the throbbing between my legs much longer.

I regretfully place the binoculars down on the window sill and head for the bathroom. I turn on the water, checking the temperature until it's just right. When the tub is full, I step in and sink down, resting my head back and allowing the warm water to envelop me. As I close my eyes, I imagine him. His hands. His mouth. His tongue. I think about what it would be like to be in the window… to be his prey… to be consumed by him.

My hand slips between my legs, and I press my middle finger against my clit and then slip down, repeating the action over and over until I successfully relieve the built up tension. It doesn't take care of the need completely, but it takes the edge off.

When I'm out of the bath and dried off, I walk to the freezer, making my selection for the night.

 _Red Velvet Cake._

After walking back over to the window sill with my carton of ice cream, I curl my legs under me and pick the binoculars back up.

He's alone, and he's no longer naked, but this look is a close second. The gray sweatpants he's wearing hang loosely on his hips, displaying the V of his muscles that lead down below. His hair is wet. I don't know why, but thinking of him being in the shower at the same time I was in the bath makes me feel connected to him in some way. I like it. Sometimes, I like watching what he does after the women leave almost as much as I enjoy watching what he does while they're there.

Almost.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hello! Thank you for stopping by and reading this little prologue. It's just a taste of what's to come. ;) *pun intended* We'll have Chapter 1 up on Wednesday and then we're going to post Chapter 2 on Friday, just to get the ball rolling. After that, we'll go to a two chapter a week posting schedule. Hope y'all enjoyed this little snippet. Can't wait to hear your thoughts!**

 **XOXO,**

 **Jiffy Kate**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Each day, I hurry home from the library as fast as I can. A few weeks ago, I noticed I was checking my watch every fifteen minutes. Last week, I actually bailed out on an extra hour of work, something I wouldn't normally do, making up a lame excuse, because I didn't want to be late. I'm worried this is turning into more of an obsession than a passing interest. Knowing my family history with addiction, I should probably be concerned. Fortunately for me, none of my obsessions are going to kill me. I guess I could be the first person to die from overeating Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream, but that seems like a good way to go.

"Bella," Mr. Chan yells as I fly through the glass door of the Chinese restaurant and through the narrow hallway that leads to the small set of stairs.

"Not right now, Mr. Chan. I'm kinda in a hurry." I glance at my watch for the fifth time and notice it's seven minutes until eight, barely enough time to grab a pint and get in my spot. Sometimes, he's a little late. Still, I'd rather be sitting, waiting, than to miss part of the show.

 _Show._

I snort to myself, thinking it's definitely more than a show. It's like a work of art, a masterpiece, something for which good money should be paid. Lucky for me and my shallow pocket book, I get it for free.

"You must eat," Mr. Chan yells behind me. "You no eat, you get too skinny."

"Thanks, Mr. Chan, but I can't right now."

He catches up to me and shoves a brown paper sack into my hand. "Is on the house," he says with a nod of his head. His kind smile forces me to smile back, even if I _am_ going to be late.

"Thank you."

"Hot Sour Soup, your favorite."

I raise the bag up and sniff it. It does smell amazing, and it is my favorite. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"Rent due in five days," he yells as I take the stairs two at a time.

"Yes, five days," I yell back. "I'll have it to you in four. Promise!"

The only way I can afford to live in New York, and in the area I'm in, is to live above a Chinese restaurant in something that used to be a storage room. The small room has enough space for my double bed, a small refrigerator, a two-burner stove, a tiny table, and a big comfy chair that was already here when I moved in. Fortunately, there's also a bathroom with a small tub. Well, the tub was an afterthought that's squeezed tightly into the small space, but I'm just glad someone thought of it. It's enough for me.

I pull out my keys and unlock both locks. The good thing about living right above the restaurant is Mr. Chan is always around, and I feel safe. The bad thing is that my apartment always smells like Moo Goo Gai Pan.

I hurry in and put my brown paper sack on the window sill. Tossing my backpack by the bed, I quickly pull my skirt, blouse, and bra off and throw them into the basket on the floor, letting out a sigh of relief and then pulling on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants.

When I'm finally in my spot, hair knotted on top of my head, binoculars in hand, I take a peek across the way to see if I've missed any of the action.

He's there. My heart begins to beat faster, hammering against my chest. I sit up on my knees and scoot closer to the glass, like that somehow makes me closer to him. I swallow thickly, adjusting the binoculars until they're crystal clear.

I found these the day I moved in. There was a box labeled _Li Ju Chan_. I asked Mr. Chan about it, but he told me it was a box his brother had left up there after the war. He never specified what war, but he acted like he didn't want whatever was in the box, so I asked if I could go through it. "Find anything, is yours," he said, waving above his head toward the apartment.

All that had been in the box was this amazing pair of old binoculars, a picture of who I assumed was Li Ju, and a book in Chinese. I put the picture in the book as a bookmark and placed the book on my shelf that I made out of crates I'd found out back. Sometimes, I pretend to read the book, but mostly, I just stare at the symbols, wondering how anyone learns to speak a language that looks so complicated. The binoculars have become my new best friend. Without a television or computer, the only thing I have to occupy my time after work is books, but I'm surrounded by books all day, and occasionally my mind needs a break from fantasy worlds.

Not that what I'm watching isn't a fantasy, but it's visual, whereas most of the alternate realities I reside in are all in the pages of books.

I watch as he walks over to his bar and pours a drink. The amber liquid in the crystal clear glass makes me swallow again, imagining what it tastes like on his tongue. He swirls the liquor around before lifting it to his perfect lips and draining the glass. It's his ritual. He does it every night he brings someone home.

I turn my focus to the woman of the evening. She's a classic choice. Her long blonde hair is straight as a board, tucked neatly behind her ears. Her black dress is simple yet seductive, accompanied by sheer black stockings with a thin line up the back of her slender calves, topped off with black stilettos to complete the look. It's a look I could never pull off. I'm envious of women who can. The only look I can pull off is skirts and cardigans. I know it's a bit cliché of me. I work in a library and wear cardigans every day. How much more basic and unoriginal can I be? Yeah, he'd never look twice at someone like me.

They're standing about five feet from each other, and it's like watching a lion with his prey. I can tell they're talking by the movement of their lips and the occasional change of facial expressions. I wish I could hear everything. I wish I could hear his voice… his words. I only have my imagination to go off of for that part.

He walks closer and runs his hand down her arm to her waist and grabs her, pulling her to him tightly. Her long blonde hair flies back with the force, but by the way she lifts one foot off the ground and leans farther into him, I can tell she likes it. She's into it… into him.

His mouth goes to her ear, and he whispers something to her. I can't see his face. It's hidden by hers, but the expression on hers—the way she closes her eyes and bites down on her bottom lip—lets me know that it's affecting her, whatever it is. God, what I wouldn't give to know what makes her react like that.

Her hand grips his shoulder tightly, grabbing and wrinkling the fabric. His hand goes to her back and makes fast work of the zipper. Once unzipped, he pushes it down, letting it pool at her feet. She goes to remove her stockings, but he stops her, shaking his head. Standing back, he admires for a split second, folding his arms in front of him, rubbing his five o'clock shadow with one hand, like he's trying to decide what to do with her.

Stalking back over to her, he unclasps her bra and drops it to the floor, kicking it out of his way, along with her dress. Then he kneels in front of her and holds her hips, pulling her to him. I can see perfectly, and I watch as he inhales deeply before his teeth nip at her stockings. His tongue darts out, and he wedges his face between her legs. Even though there is a barrier between them, his touch makes her head fall back. Her long hair cascades down her back, practically touching her ass. He pulls the stockings down, ripping them. She has nothing else on underneath and is now standing bare before him. She doesn't hide. She doesn't seem nervous. She just stands there, allowing him to have his way with her… nipping and licking… sucking, until she's gripping his hair and pushing him closer.

Suddenly, he stands up, tossing her over his shoulder, her bare ass up in the air for all to see. Or me. Just me. Because being four stories up, I'm sure it seems as if they're hidden… alone. But I have to wonder if he gets off from doing this stuff in front of the large windows. He always fucks them in the window.

While she's still over his shoulder, he pulls her shoes off and yanks the remains of her stockings off, tossing them to the floor before he places her in front of the window and spreads her legs apart. From this position, I have the best vantage point. Although, I can't see all of him, I can see her, and her expressions tell me everything I need to know.

It's good.

It's so good she wants to cry.

It's so good she probably doesn't even know where she is. She probably doesn't even remember her name.

For the time she's in that window, she's his. That's it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Her medium-sized breasts push up against the window, and her mouth drops open as he pushes himself inside her. Two sets of hands are pressed against the glass. Her beautiful face morphs from pain to pleasure to ecstasy. I can see her expression break, and she must cry out his name. He wraps his hand around her long cornsilk hair and pulls her head back, opening up her neck for his lips.

For a moment, his eyes gaze out the window, and I freeze, tensing up. I know he can't see me. I _know_ that, but the smirk that forms on his lips makes me think that he hopes someone sees them. He _wants_ someone to see them. He gets off knowing it's a possibility. That thought makes my heart beat even faster, and I swallow hard.

With her head tilted back, I get to watch him. His jaw tightens, and his nostrils flare. His beautiful face turns a dark shade of red, and I can see a bead of sweat dripping down his nose. His tongue licks it as it runs across his lips, and then he licks her, tasting her. His mouth lingers there and sucks, marring her porcelain skin.

She takes her hands from the glass and wraps them around his neck, holding him there. When her body begins to go limp from exertion, he presses her harder into the window until he finishes. They stay against the glass for a short time, both catching their breath. I notice I'm holding my own. My legs are squeezed tightly together, wanting the same friction I've been witnessing but knowing I'll never have that. A warm bath and my hand will take care of the throb between my legs, but later.

After she slips her dress back on and wads her stockings up, tossing them in the same trashcan he deposited the condom, I put the binoculars down and walk to the freezer. Time to decide on the flavor of the night and cool the fuck down.

 _Rocky Road?_ No.

 _Cake Batter?_ Hmmm. Maybe.

 _Blondie Ambition?_

My eyebrows shoot up. Yep, that's the winner. I know the blondie on the other side of the window sure had a lot of ambition. I smirk to myself before prying off the lid and licking it clean. Situating myself back in the window seat, I pull the binoculars back up and make sure I didn't miss anything.

Sometimes, there's a round two.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** *grabs the Ben  & Jerry's* I don't know about y'all, but I'm ready for round two!

 **Jiff:** Bring it! *licks spoon*

 **Jenny Kate:** Damn, it's good to be back.

 **Jiff:** So good! We've missed all of you very much so, welcome back and welcome to our new readers, as well!

 **Jenny Kate:** We really appreciate all of the alerts, follows, favs, reviews, and recs! You guys rock! Hope this first chapter was as good for you as it was for us. ;) We'd love to hear your thoughts in the reviews or feel free to find us on Facebook! (Jiff Simpson, Jenny Kate, or Jiffy Kate Fan Fiction (group))

 **Jiff:** Much love and thanks to Team Jiffy Kate: Geekchic12, J Ray (AKA the love of our lives), and Pamela!

 **Jenny Kate:** And, last, but not least, we'd like to give a special shout-out to Sarah!


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

"So," Rose says, sighing as she stacks more books onto the returns cart. "Any plans for the weekend?"

"Jasper and I are headed to his parents' for the weekend. We need to get out of the city," Alice replies. The stack of books she's currently carrying is almost bigger than she is. Somehow she makes it to the desk without dropping any or tipping herself over. For someone so short in stature, she makes up for it in all other areas. Everything else about Alice is big—personality, brain, and strength, apparently. "I really can't stand my in-laws, but I love their place." She shrugs her shoulders, and her coal black hair bounces as she laughs.

"I was blessed with good in-laws." Rose was blessed with good everything. She's every man's wet dream. The second they walk in and see her behind the desk, they forget what they've come in for. Her blonde hair is usually up in a tight bun. Her usual attire consists of pencil skirts and button-up blouses with high heels. She even wears glasses, for goodness' sake. I'd like to accuse her of being clichè, but that's just Rose.

"Please don't nauseate me by going on about your perfect family," Alice groans. "We've all heard how amazing the McCartys are. No need to remind us."

"What about you, Bella?" Rose asks, redirecting the conversation. "What are your plans for the weekend?"

"Same thing I do every weekend," I admit, chuckling when they both look up at me with annoyed expressions. "What?"

"You really have got to get out of that closet," Alice says. "Come to Delaware with us. It'll be great. You can be my decoy. It'll give Jasper a break. I bet his mother will love you."

"Why?"

"Because you're not me," she says sweetly, covering her heart with her hand. "And you didn't steal her baby's virtue."

"Oh, god!" I exclaim. "Please, no sex talk." I cover my ears in protest. Any time sex is brought up while we're at work, both of them go on and on about their latest sexcapades. It's not like I'm a prude or anything. Far from it actually, but I don't want to hear about how Jasper can hold Alice up against the wall for forty minutes or how Emmett's cock barely fits. That's a direct quote, by the way. Now, when Jasper and Emmett come visit Alice and Rose at work, I'm forced to hide out in the breakroom. I can't face them. My cheeks burn with embarrassment.

I smile to myself, thinking about what I witnessed last night through the binoculars. It's not lost on me that I can watch someone have their brains screwed out, but my friends merely mention a penis, and I'm running for the hills.

"Fine," Alice says, giggling. "No sex talk for today, but you really do need to get out of that shit hole for the weekend."

"It's not a shit hole."

"It used to be a storage closet before you moved in. It's a shit hole."

Alice nods her head, agreeing with Rose.

"Well, I was actually thinking about visiting my mom this weekend. She's getting ready to go into the portion of her rehab that will require family therapy sessions." I wrinkle my face in distaste. I'm not looking forward to that. I can't imagine what a family therapy session will fix. She's been broken for a long time. Sometimes, I wonder what I'm even doing here, why I'm even trying.

"That's good, sweetie," Alice says, patting my hand. "You should do that. It'd be good for both of you."

"I don't even know why you go see her," Rose snarls. "She's a shit mother who's abandoned you over and over. She doesn't deserve a visit."

"Stop, Rose," Alice chides. "Bella," she says, squeezing my hand. "This is for you. Nobody else. Got me?"

I nod and gently pull my hand from hers, taking the stack of books and walking over to a shelf to begin putting them back where they belong. Alice is the only person who really understands my situation. We've known each other since junior high, and we've been friends ever since. Her mother bailed on her when she was five. The good thing is that her mother never came back. I know that sounds shitty, but it's true. Mine would leave and go on a bender, only to return a few years later. It was a constant cycle of me being disappointed and getting my hopes up. Rose is right. She doesn't deserve my time or my affection, but all I've ever wanted was a mother who loves me. It's hard to explain to someone who's always had that. Even though Renee is a sorry excuse for a mother, she's the only one I've got.

When I got a call a couple of months ago that she was being placed in a long-term rehabilitation facility, I felt like it was my last chance, sort of a last-ditch effort. She's never had this kind of help before. So I'm allowing myself to get my hopes up again, but I'm hoping that this time will be different. I'm not delusional enough to think she'll ever be the mom who remembers holidays and birthdays or makes a big family dinner, but I'm hoping for something better than what I've had. That's why I moved. That's why I packed up my small apartment in Middletown and found something close to her. Alice got me the job at the library, which is close to my apartment and the rehab facility. When everything seemed to fall into place, I took it as a sign from the universe that this is where I'm supposed to be… This is what I'm supposed to be doing. It's probably stupid, but I have nothing to lose.

"Hey," Alice says quietly as she walks up beside me. "The offer's open if you change your mind. You're welcome to come with us."

"Thanks, Alice, but I think I should stick around and make the visit to my mom." I sigh and slide another book onto the shelf. "I mean, it's why I'm here, right?"

"Yeah," she says, nodding her head. "I get it."

We continue to work side by side in comfortable silence. If nothing else, by moving here, I've gained two good friends. I've never let many people in, but Alice and I have always been close and had a quiet understanding between us. Even though we hadn't seen each other for a few years, we'd always kept in touch, and once I moved here, we picked up where we left off. And Rose didn't really give me a choice.

***WaS***

"See ya Monday, Bella," Alice calls out as she walks one way and I walk the other.

I wave back to her. "Have a good time this weekend."

Looking at my watch, I see that it's just a little after five, and I immediately begin to think about whether or not he'll be home tonight and whether or not he'll have someone with him. My heart begins to race as images flash through my mind. My pace picks up, and before I know it, I'm speed walking down the sidewalk.

I make a quick stop at the store a couple of blocks from my building, picking up the necessities: cereal for breakfast tomorrow, a small carton of milk, Ramen Noodles, and three cartons of Ben & Jerry's. The ice cream selection took me a few minutes. It's important to have the right flavor. I never know exactly what the flavor of the night will be. I end up choosing Peanut Buttah, Banana Split, and Karamel Sutra. Although they all sound enticing, I'm kinda hoping the Karamel Sutra comes in handy. Just thinking about it has me biting down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning.

 _If Alice and Rose only knew._

When I walk in through the front door of the restaurant, I wave to a busy Mr. Chan. It's Friday evening, and this hole in the wall serves the best Chinese food around, so it's packed.

"You eat?" Mr. Chan asks above the noise from the patrons and his kitchen staff that consists of his wife, daughter, son, and a nephew.

I hold up the brown sacks with my purchases from the grocery store and smile.

He just shakes his head and goes back to taking orders at the counter, mumbling something I can't hear, but I can guess he's not happy that I don't take him up on his free food. It's really nice of him, but I feel bad sometimes. He already lets me rent this apartment dirt cheap.

Once I'm up the stairs and in the apartment, I put my few groceries away and then change out of my work clothes into a t-shirt and pajama pants. Standing there, looking around the small space, I try to think of something else to do to occupy my time, but I can't think of anything. The room is so small that it doesn't require much cleaning. I have no one to cook for, no one to talk to, and laundry day isn't until tomorrow.

I glance over at the window sill where my blanket from last night is still crumpled up, and the binoculars sit and taunt me, calling me to them. Maybe just one little peek. I won't look at his window. I'll just watch people walking around down on the street… or maybe I'll find another window with something interesting going on behind it.

Climbing up there and getting comfortable, I pick the binoculars up and begin adjusting my sights. I take a moment and peruse down below. The other building beside mine keeps me from seeing the sidewalk, but I can look farther out between that building and the one where he lives. The street is bustling with cars, more so since it's the weekend. Taxis blare their horns, pedestrians walk swiftly to their destinations, and occasionally a brightly colored shirt or a speeding car catches my attention. Other than that, it's not nearly as captivating as what I normally watch a couple floors above.

Slowly, I allow the binoculars to scan the expanse of the building, looking for another window, someone else to give my attention to, but all the rest of the windows are shaded or have no one occupying them. The building itself is divided up between office and living space. The floors with office spaces are mostly vacant this time of day, save for a few late-working employees. But I can only see shadows and lights, nothing interesting enough to pay much attention to, so finally I give in and settle on the window that is calling my name.

He's not there. It's empty, but it doesn't keep me from looking. I'm fascinated by the simplicity of what I can see. It's clean too, which makes sense. Whoever he is, he seems to like to be in control. That's evident in his hobbies and the condition of his apartment. The large floor-to-ceiling windows allow me to see so much, but he never opens the blinds farther down, the ones that can only open up into his bedroom. That seems to be off limits. He also never takes women in there. I've watched long enough to know that all the action takes place right there in the window, the one I'm staring at when a dark form enters the room.

He's there.

My heart rate spikes, and my breathing picks up as he walks in and puts a satchel and a few pieces of mail down on a side table close to the window. He stands there for a moment, staring out into the city, his strong arms folded across his chest. I watch as his eyebrows furrow, and I wonder what makes him look like that. I don't know if it's a sad expression or angry. I wish I knew. I wish I knew so much, like his name, for starters.

He rubs his hand along his jaw and then into his hair. Maybe he's thankful it's the weekend? Maybe his job is really stressful? I wonder what he does for a living. My mind has gone so many places over the last few months. I've thought that maybe he's a lawyer, but for some reason, that doesn't fit. Maybe a CEO of some big important company? Maybe he's a detective? Nah, his hours seem really regular. Occasionally, I've seen him leave after taking a phone call later in the evening. I guess he could be a doctor, but I think doctors work much longer hours, or at least they seem to on Grey's Anatomy. Those people practically live at the hospital.

Eventually, he tugs at the tie around his neck until it comes completely undone, and he tosses it beside his mail on the table by the window. I lose sight of him as he walks farther into the apartment, possibly going to the kitchen for some dinner or a beer. Guys drink beer when they come home from a hard day's work, right?

While he's out of sight, I take the opportunity to get some dinner of my own and pop some Ramen noodles into the microwave. After the piping hot bowl is ready, I set it down on the window sill before hopping back up there. I check to see if he's back, but he's not, so I eat, blowing gently on the spoon until the noodles are at a bearable temperature to swallow. I haven't eaten since the bagel I had this morning on my way to work, and I'm starving.

A few minutes later, when my bowl is empty, washed, and dried, I'm back on my perch waiting.

He comes back into view in the low slung sweat pants I've come to love and a bowl, very similar to the ones I just ate out of. I smile. Maybe we're not so different after all. He begins to eat, blowing on the spoon, and I'm captivated by the way his jaw looks as his lips pull together. His side profile is enough to bring me to my knees.

After he finishes eating, he takes his bowl to the kitchen and then comes back to the couch and lies down, stretching his long legs out, exposing even more of his toned stomach. I swallow the saliva that's pooling in my mouth and bite down on my lip, trying to curb the desire rising up inside of me. He's not even fucking someone against a window, and I can't help but want him.

It looks like it's going to be a quiet evening in for him, so I retire the binoculars after one last look, find a book from my shelf, and settle on my bed for the night.

After an hour or so of reading, the fantasy world isn't holding my interest any longer, so I get up and stretch. The clock on my nightstand says it's a little after nine. I guess I could go to sleep, but it's still early, and it's a Friday night. Nothing says loser like going to bed early on a Friday night, so I pick the binoculars back up and give a quick glance across the way.

The table by the window is now cleared of his satchel and mail, and a woman is residing there, her long legs making a V in the air and his face planted firmly between them.

 _Karamel Sutra._

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jiff:** Well, damn. I don't know what I'm most hungry for: Chinese noodles, ice cream or Edward!

 **Jenny Kate:** I volunteer as tribute! I'll have what she's having.

 **Jiff:** We're in Philly this weekend for the TwiFic MeetUp! It's so great seeing old friends and meeting new ones. This fandom is amazing! We wish you all were here with us!

 **Jenny Kate:** Thank you for a great first week of Watch and See! We'll be back on Tuesday with Chapter 3!

 **Jiff:** Thanks again to Team Jiffy Kate: Geekchic12, J Ray, and Pamela! See you next time, Sarah!


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

As I wake up, I immediately start dreading the day. I should be grateful that it's Saturday, but today I planned on visiting my mom, and I never know how those visits are going to go. I've seen her half a dozen times since she's been in rehab, which is more than I've seen her in the last six years. She's never been a permanent fixture, but after my dad died when I was sixteen, she made an attempt. An attempt that didn't even last until my senior year. I lived alone that year, paying rent with the savings account my dad had, which he'd kept secret from my mother. If she had known, it would have been what funded her drug binges. Instead, she left when she got too sad. She told me she couldn't handle being reminded of him every day.

Although she had a real shitty way of showing it, I know my mother loved my father. His dying hurt her as much as it hurt me, probably more so, because he'd been her savior when she needed one, and he was no longer around to do that. Maybe that was a good thing, though. Maybe he enabled her more than saved her.

The first time I visited her in rehab, she was pissed. She spewed angry words at me and told me to leave, but when she broke down crying as I was walking out the door, I knew she didn't really mean it. I think somewhere, deep down, she loves me too.

My visits with her since then have been bipolar. One time, she's happy to see me, and then the next time, she asks why I'm still hanging around. She told me I should go back to Middletown, that I'm not cut out for the big city. Hearing her say that only made me want to stay that much more, if only to prove her wrong.

I know she's scared. I can see it in her eyes, especially these last few times. The more sober she is, the further away she is from the drugs, the more scared she becomes. She's forced to face reality, life… She's never been good at that. That's how she ended up an addict. She doesn't know how to be a functioning human being, let alone a mother. But for some stupid reason, I keep hanging around, hoping one day she'll figure her shit out. She's all I've got left.

Pulling myself out of bed, I get dressed for the day and gather my laundry. I'll have to do it when I get back.

On my walk to the rehab facility, I stop and buy my mom a Kit Kat bar. She can't have drugs or alcohol, but she can have chocolate, and this is her favorite.

I see her before she sees me. She's sitting in a chair with her knees pulled to her chest, staring blankly out the window. Someone yelling pulls her attention my way, and when she sees me walking in, the expression on her face grows even more somber. I walk up and scoot a chair beside her.

"Hey," I say, testing the waters.

"What are you doing here?" she asks snidely.

"I brought you this," I tell her, slipping the Kit Kat out of my pocket and sitting it on the arm of her chair.

I see a small smile that she's fighting to hide, and it makes me smile as well.

She takes the chocolate and sticks it into the pocket of the pale blue scrubs she's wearing. "Thanks," she whispers.

"Did you have a good week?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah, it was like a stay at the Four Seasons," she deadpans.

"How did your therapy sessions go?"

"I'm fucked up, Bella, but we already knew that, didn't we?" She turns her gaze to look at me, and her eyes lock on mine. I don't know how she wants me to respond to that.

"You're here, Mom. And you're getting help. That's what's important."

"They can't help me," she whispers, resting her chin on her knees and wrapping her arms tightly around her legs.

Something about seeing her pain makes me hurt. I wonder how she got to be this way. There had to be a point in her life where she saw potential in herself. No child starts out thinking they want to be a junkie when they grow up.

"What did you want to be when you grew up?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

She slowly turns her head to look at me. Her lips turn up into a sad smile. "I wanted to be a dancer." It's the first time she's ever readily told me anything about her past. She didn't have to think about it, so I know it's genuine. She wanted to be a dancer.

" _Were_ you a dancer?" I ask.

She nods her head. "Once upon a time."

"Like ballet?" I ask, immediately wanting to know more.

"Yeah."

"Did you ever dance professionally?" I ask, wondering why no one ever told me anything about this. Knowing this piece of information, I can see it—her long, lean body and delicate features. I'm sure she was a beautiful dancer.

"No." She turns her head back to look out the window, shutting me out.

"Why not?" I feel like it's the wrong thing to ask before the words leave my mouth, but it comes out anyway.

"Because I got pregnant with you." The confession accompanied with the way she looks at me makes me feel like I've been punched in the gut.

I'm the reason she didn't follow her dreams.

What if she hadn't had me? Would she have gone on to become a beautiful, successful dancer? Would she be sitting here in rehab?

The words _I'm sorry_ are on the tip of my tongue, but I don't say them. I swallow them down along with the emotions I feel building deep inside.

After a few seconds of being silent, she turns back to look at me. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" Her voice takes an edgy tone. She's looking for an argument, but I'm not going to give her one. I don't want to do this with her. "I was going to move here and join a dance troupe. I already had my acceptance letter." For a second, I think she's going to stop, but then she continues. "I wanted to have an abortion," she whispers. "Your dad didn't want me to."

 _An abortion? Is she just saying this to make me leave? Is she trying to make me hurt as much as she's hurting?_ Mission accomplished.

"I—I've gotta go," I say quietly, scooting my chair back to where I found it. I feel her looking at me, but I don't turn back around. I don't want her to see the tears streaming down my face. I hate her. I hate her for making me feel this way, like I'm somehow responsible for her being here.

I didn't ask to be born, especially to her.

I spend the rest of my Saturday replaying my mother's hurtful words over and over, trying to make sense of them… trying to make sense of her. She's never made sense to me. I've never understood how you can turn your back on your flesh and blood, but hearing her admit that she never wanted me helps me understand. My dad is the reason she kept me. She loved my dad. She didn't love me. I was the reason she didn't get to live out her dream. I kept her from being happy.

I suddenly feel the heaviness of guilt and responsibility weighing on my shoulders like cinderblocks. I know it's not logical, but it's how I feel now that I know how she feels.

Later, I lie in bed with all the lights turned off. I think about getting up and going to the window, seeking him out, but I don't have it in me. The tears I've shed all afternoon and evening have taken the life right out of me. So I lie there in the dark, imagining what he's doing and to whom. Is she blonde? Brunette? Is she tall? Does she want him as much as I do?

My fantasies are a good distraction, and eventually I drift off to sleep, but he doesn't fill my dreams tonight. Those are saved for my mother. She's lying on her back in a hallway, and blood begins to seep out from under her, covering the white floor. I run toward her, but the long hallway grows, and the harder I try to get to her, the farther away she becomes. It's as if I'm running in place. I call out to her, but she doesn't move. I run and run and run, but I never reach her.

The next morning, my eyes feel scratchy from the tears and the restless sleep. I wish I had coffee, but I don't even have a coffee pot. I decide to get dressed and walk down the street to get a cup, but first I check the window.

Droplets of rain trickle down the window pane. Picking up the binoculars, I look across the way, needing just a glimpse of him. I didn't watch at all yesterday, and in some weird way, I missed him.

As the lenses focus in, I see him standing in the window, just like I hoped he would be. His sweatpants are black today, and they still sit dangerously low on his hips. The light trail of hair that starts at the waistband goes up to his chiseled chest. After pausing for a moment and appreciating the view, I scan up to his face. His jaw is set tight, and his brows are furrowed, like he's angry, but his eyes tell a different story. They're sad. And if I'm not mistaken, a lone tear escapes and rolls down his cheek.

I continue to watch him for a while, just taking him in, wishing I knew what was making him look the way he does. Eventually, he leans his head against the glass, and his shoulders shake. _Is he crying?_ He is. He wipes at his eyes and then wipes the moisture on his pants. After a few minutes, he seems to get his emotions under control and runs his hand through his hair. Then he's gone. He leaves to go into his bedroom and out of sight, and I sigh, hating that I can't see him, wishing I could make him feel better.

While he's gone, I take a bath and get ready for the day. I don't really have any plans, but I still want coffee, so I'll start there. Maybe I'll take a walk or… nothing. I don't really have anything else to do. Alice is in Delaware, and I don't want to bother Rose. My mother doesn't want to see me. I don't want to see her.

I take a deep breath and pick the binoculars back up to see if by chance he's back. And he is. He's dressed for the day and wearing a bright blue rain jacket.

He's going out.

I'm going out.

I don't waste any more time looking through the binoculars. I set them down, grab my backpack, lock my door, and fly down the steps.

"Bella?" Mr. Chan yells as I'm running out the glass door.

"Sorry, Mr. Chan! I'm in a hurry," I yell back. Running down the sidewalk, I barely pause at the intersection. A guy on a bike almost takes me out, but I just apologize and keep running. I run until I'm standing in front of his building. I see him. About ten people ahead of me is the bright blue rain jacket I saw through the window. He's there… right in front of me. I speed-walk until I'm behind him, and I stay in step, occasionally having to practically jog to keep up with him. He's taller than I thought. His long strides are two of mine. I don't know how far I'm going to follow him or what I'm going to do once he gets where he's going, but I'll figure that out when we get there.

When we have to stop at a crosswalk, I take a chance and step a little closer, inhaling deeply and nearly falling over when I catch a whiff of him… It's woodsy, spicy, clean… all man. It's exactly what I had imagined, but better. I'm standing there with my eyes closed when someone bumps into me, making me realize the light has changed and he's already across the street.

 _Shit._

If I'm going to be a stalker, I've gotta do better than this.

I am such a stalker.

Oh, God. I'm a stalker!

I think about turning around and going back to my apartment, feeling utterly ridiculous for following him. But then he darts out across the street, and it's like I can't make my feet stop moving in the same direction as him. I look up when he slows, and I realize we're standing in front of a large cathedral.

 _Church?_

 _He's going to church?_

He walks with purpose up the steps and opens the large wooden door, slipping inside. I stand on the sidewalk for a moment, battling with indecision. I want to see more of him. I want to see his face up close, or at least be near him for a few more minutes. I walk up the steps, glancing around before opening the doors and peeking inside. He's not there, so I walk the rest of the way in and let the heavy door close behind me. The foyer is dark, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. It smells old and musty in here, like my Grandma's church back in Middletown. Before she died, she'd take me every Sunday, but that was when I was little. I haven't been inside a church in a long time. I walk quietly over to the other set of doors and look through the glass. Inside, there are rows of pews lit by the colors spilling in from the tall stained glass windows. Up at the front, there's an area with candles burning. I see a few people sitting at different places; all are quiet, most of them with heads bowed. Scanning the rows, I search until I find him. He's sitting in the middle, staring straight ahead. I can't see his face, so I don't know if he's still sad or if coming here makes him feel better.

 _Why is he here?_

Suddenly, he gets up, and my heart flies up into my throat. I press myself against the wall beside me and hope he doesn't see me when he walks out, but he never comes. After a few minutes, I peek back through the small window in the door and see him coming out of a room off to the side.

 _He must've gone to confession._ I would love to be a fly on the wall in there. My mind races with the things he might confess. _Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I screwed the brains out of three different women last week._ Do people really say that kind of stuff in confession? I'm sure he probably said something more eloquent and reverent, like _Forgive me, Father, for I have given into sins of the flesh._

He sits back down in the pew, and I take it as my cue to leave. I can't be here when he leaves, so I walk back through the door and back down the steps. I hadn't noticed the rain on my way here. My focus had been fully on _him_. But now it's coming down quite hard, and I didn't even grab a jacket.

Ducking my head and crossing my arms over my chest, I make my way back toward my apartment to warm up and dry off. Maybe I should've stayed and made my own confessions.

 _Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I was born. My mom hates me. I watch a guy have sex with lots of different women. I think you know about them. I also stalk him, but it's just because I want to know him._

*WaS*

He's there.

He's alone.

And he's naked.

Standing in the window, he holds his thick cock in his hand, and it's hard— _really_ hard. He presses one hand against the glass, supporting himself, while his other slowly begins to stroke from base to tip. He looks up and out the window, as if he's searching for something or wishing someone were there. There's little emotion in his eyes—unlike most nights when his face is filled with want and lust. Tonight, he's only going through the motions. He strokes for a few more minutes, picking up speed until his whole body jerks and he comes, spilling into his hand.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** Jiff is in the air right now on her way to see her kiddos! So, I'll just leave a short little one-sided author's note and let y'all know that we're so happy you're enjoying this story! Thank you for the love that comes in various shapes and sizes...rec's, reviews, Facebook messages, shares, favs, follows. All of it rocks our world. We'd especially like to thank Team JiffyKate: Geekchic12, J Ray (Rachel), and Pamela! Also, if you're a member of our Jiffy Kate Fan Fic Facebook group, you know how fabulous Lynette's Reaction Posts are! If you haven't experienced them, go...RUN! Her post for Chapter 2 was a live/video post and it was fantastic!

*hi fives to Sarah*

Let us know what you think about the chapter or the story thus far! We'd love to hear from you!

XOXO


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 _Section 613 - Health; Hygiene_

 _Section 613.9 - Hygiene of Offspring; Heredity_

 _Section 613.96…_

Ah, here's the section I want.

 _The Joy of Sex_

Not today.

 _The Guide to Getting It On!_

Cute book, but no.

 _Hot Sex: How to Do It_

I might need to come back to this one.

 _For Yourself: The Fulfillment of Female Sexuality_

Bingo.

I look to my right, then left, making sure I'm alone in this section of the library before sliding the book out. Thumbing through the pages, I see chapters on female anatomy, how to communicate to your partner, and sexual shaming before landing on one about experiences and fantasies. I'm hoping to gain some insight into my sudden stumble into voyeurism. I've never been a peeper before, but here lately, it's all I can think about.

I'm not really sure I'm a true voyeur, to be honest. It's not just sex I like to watch. It's _him_. I like—no, love—watching him do anything. He just seems to have a lot of sex, and it looks so damn good, I simply can't stop myself. I don't want to stop.

My own sexual experiences don't come close to comparing to what he does to the women he brings to his apartment. Just thinking about what I've missed out on makes me feel sad and a little angry. No, not a little angry. I'm actually pissed. Why haven't I been fucked like that? Do I blame the losers I grew up with who probably don't know the difference between a pussy and a hole in the ground? Or do I blame myself? With my plain brown hair and simple clothes, I know I'm not attractive to most men. Not in the way that'll get me fucked like that, at least.

Sighing, I place the book on the bottom of my cart, hiding it so I can check it out to myself when nobody's looking.

"Look who I found sneaking in the naughty section!" Rose teases me in a sing-song voice, and my cheeks flame in embarrassment.

"I'm not sneaking, Rose. I'm just shelving books."

"Mmm-hmmm," she murmurs while studying the titles on the shelf in front of me. "Oh! You should read this one." Her index finger pulls out _Sex for One: The Joy of Self Loving_ , and she hands it to me. "It has some great masturbation tips, and when you finally start dating again, you should read this one." She points to _Down and Dirty Sex Secrets: The New and Naughty Guide to Being Great in Bed_.

I let out a frustrated breath and roll my eyes. "I'm not here for me. I was just doing my job, so butt out of my sex life."

"Bella, it's no big deal. It's smart to do your research. I just hope one day soon, you can put all of your knowledge into practice. That reminds me. Alice and I know a guy who would be perfect for you. Want to meet him?"

Shit. Not another blind date. The idea of meeting a stranger and being forced to make conversation while eating is, quite possibly, my version of hell on Earth.

"I don't think so, Rose."

"Oh, come on! You are a young, beautiful woman, and you need to start living. Have some fun for a change. I'm not asking you to marry the guy!"

She's right. I know she's right, but it's so hard to break out of my shell, my routine. I'd never admit it, but the main reason I don't want to go on this date is because I don't want to risk missing _him_ in his apartment.

Fuck, I need to get a life.

Rose must sense the resolve in my posture because she uses the opportunity to tell me more about the guy she has in mind for me.

"His name is Jake, and he's tall, dark, and handsome. He has a great job and is a really nice guy. He mentioned being free Saturday afternoon, but I know you usually visit Renee then. Is there another day that works for you?"

Renee. After our disastrous visit last week, I'm not so sure I want to see her again. This date is sounding better and better, I think.

I stay quiet for a moment longer, weighing my options. I know I should accept, put myself out there and try to enjoy myself, but it's so hard to make that first step. Making a deal with myself, I agree to meet this Jake guy, as long as I can be home in time to see my favorite window show.

"Okay, Rose. I'll meet your friend on Saturday, as long as it's a group thing. I don't want the pressure of a blind date right now."

Obviously forgetting where we are, she lets out a squeal and starts clapping until we hear a few people shush us. I can't help but laugh at my friend.

"What about your visit with your mom?"

"I'm not going this week," I declare, ignoring the guilt I feel settling in my gut.

***WaS***

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. Why did I agree to this date with Jake? My stomach is in knots, and I can't stop sweating. These are not good traits for a first date or any date, for that matter.

I grab a piece of paper off my bed and fan myself with it as I pace the floor of my apartment.

I can't do this. I'll just call Rose and tell her I'm sick. It wouldn't be that much of a lie, really. I bet it'd only take one quick poke of my finger down my throat to make me throw up. Rose would never know the truth.

My phone starts ringing, and my shoulders sag. It can only be one of two people on the other line. It doesn't matter which one of my friends it is. Their messages will be identical.

Not bothering to look at the number flashing on my screen, I answer. "Yes?"

"Don't even think about backing out, Bella."

I sigh before an embarrassing whine leaves my mouth. "But, Alice…"

"No. I'm not letting you pass up this opportunity." Her voice is stern at first but quickly changes to the comforting voice I've relied on since junior high. "I worry about you, Bella. You're my oldest and dearest friend, and I want you to be happy. Now, I know you don't have to have a man in your life to be happy, but you're missing out on so many life experiences. You're too young to lock yourself away in your apartment like some kind of recluse. Please come out with us." The sound of Alice's pleading voice brings tears to my eyes. Even though she's my best friend, she sometimes mothers me, and I'm okay with that. My own mother has never worried about me, so in a weird way, it feels nice to know Alice does.

"Fine, Alice. I'll go, but when I'm ready to leave, you have to promise to just let me go." I'd rather her think my social anxiety got the better of me instead of the fact I wanted to get home and use my binoculars.

An hour later, I'm walking into the park where I'm meeting Alice and her husband Jasper, Rose and her boyfriend Emmett, and my date, Jake, for a concert. The weather is perfect. The heat from the bright sun is cooled by the breeze blowing, making me glad I brought a light sweater to cover my arms that are exposed by my flowy sundress.

Once I promised Alice I'd really show up this afternoon, I was able to focus on the positives of this date. Getting some fresh air, listening to live music, and possibly making a new friend filled me with excitement, not dread. The shot of tequila I took before leaving my apartment might be helping with my mood, too. I always keep a bottle of Cuervo in my freezer for times like this, and it's never let me down.

I hear my name being called and turn to see the girls waving at me. As I walk in their direction, my eyes land on who I assume is Jake, and holy shit, he's good-looking. He's not what I'm normally attracted—he's very boy-next-door with his neatly combed black hair and wide, sparkling white smile—but there's no arguing that the man is fine. He stands as I approach the large blanket spread out for our group and sticks his hand out to me.

"You must be Bella. I'm Jake. It's nice to meet you." His smile is genuine, and his teeth are really white, and his hands are soft like he's never done manual labor in his life.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you, too."

I greet everyone else in our party, and we all sit down. The music starts, and I gladly accept the glass of wine being handed to me by Jake. It really is a lovely evening, and I find that I'm relaxing and enjoying myself more than I thought I would.

Jake really is a good guy. He's a banker who enjoys craft beer, and he always makes time for volunteer work. He's very polite, very polished, and very boring. I know there are tons of women who are looking for someone just like Jake… but I'm not one of them.

When the concert is over, he offers to share a cab with me and escort me home. I accept because I don't want to disappoint Alice and Rose, but if he thinks I'm inviting him up to my apartment, he's very mistaken.

We're a block away from 's restaurant when I spot him. Not Jake. _Him_. The man I love to watch. I do a double take, but I know it's him. I'd recognize that jaw line and hair anywhere. He's just walked into a pharmacy, and I suddenly have an intense need to buy some aspirin. Or hair dye. Or something. Anything, as long as it's in that store with him.

Jake is in the middle of a story about the time he helped build bikes for underprivileged kids for Christmas when I yell to the driver, "Stop! I need to get out here, please!"

The cab screeches to a stop, and Jake's kind eyes become confused as he watches me fumble in my purse for some cash. "Is something wrong?" he asks.

"No, I just remembered something I need to do, and I need to get out here. I'm sorry to bail like this, but it's very important." I hand him money for my portion of the fare, but he gently pushes my hand away.

"Don't worry about it. Maybe we can get together another time?"

I can't believe I haven't scared him off yet. Between my fidgeting all day and awkward conversation skills and now this, I was sure he'd be running for the hills.

"Um, sure, maybe. I'll get your number from Rose, okay?" I quickly get out of the cab and wave at Jake through the window as it drives off.

As I speed walk into the pharmacy, I realize I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Do I try to strike up a conversation with him, or do I just follow him around the store like the psycho I'm becoming? What is wrong with me? I've been affected by a man like this, and he doesn't even know I exist. Even if he did, he wouldn't be interested in me. He'd never give me the time of day. I'm nothing like the women he fucks, which is why I have such a close, personal relationship with my binoculars now.

He's the tallest person in the pharmacy, so it's easy to keep an eye on him. His bronze hair is messy, and I want to grab on to it and force his head between my legs, making it even messier. I watch as he purchases a large box of condoms, and my stomach flutters, wishing I was the one he opened the box for later.

Speaking of later, I need to get to my apartment. I don't want to miss a second of whatever he's about to do. I step right behind him as he heads for the door. This is the closest I've allowed myself to get to him, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. Instead, I take a chance and lean my face close to his back, inhaling his manly scent. He stops once he's out of the door, and I almost bump into him. As embarrassing as that could've been, I might have to let that happen the next time I'm this close to him. It'll probably be the only chance I get for any kind of physical contact with this beautiful man.

He looks left before turning right and walking in the opposite direction of his apartment building. I'm confused by this, so of course, I continue to follow him. We walk for a couple of blocks until he slows and steps into a restaurant. Looking through the window, I watch as a gorgeous lady with black hair falling past her ass greets him at the bar. She stretches up on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek.

Of course, he's on a date. Duh.

At least I have a little more time to get home and settled before the show begins.

I cross the street and head to my building. I've been walking along when a storefront catches my eye. Delicate lace and satin beckon to me, and without thinking, I enter the lingerie store. Everything on display looks rich and glamorous, and I clasp my hands together to keep myself from touching anything.

I bet the women he fucks wear underwear like this, and I bet it doesn't even faze them when he rips them off their bodies, never to be worn again. I can't help but wonder what that must feel like. To wear fancy fabrics only to be destroyed by his hands.

I want that.

Before I can stop myself, I pick up a price tag attached to a pair of panties. Surely panties don't cost that much, right? The deep red satin caresses my skin, and the lace trim is just enough to make them look cute, as well as luxurious. When I see the price, I nearly swallow my tongue.

Holy shit. If panties cost that much, I don't want to know how much a bra is.

I should put the garment down and leave, but my feet refuse to work. My hands refuse to release the panties, and my brain quickly calculates a way for me to afford them. Accepting free food from Mr. Chan more than once this week will definitely help, and it makes him happy, so it's a win-win situation.

Pleased with my plan, I make sure I have the correct size before paying for them. The shopping bag in my hand is almost as pretty as the prize it contains, so I make sure to carry it carefully until I get to my bedroom and set it on my dresser.

I take a quick shower to freshen up, and after drying off, I slip on my new panties. The fit is perfect, and the color somehow makes my pale skin look amazing. My hands won't stop touching the fabric, and my body starts to tingle with the tiniest bit of arousal. A deep need to know what's going on across the way causes me to quickly turn off my bedroom light and practically leap into the window sill.

He's there with a her, and they're already kissing. They must've had some major foreplay while at dinner. My body is on fire as I watch them quickly undress. I go to remove my shirt when I realize I never put one on after my shower. I'm literally sitting here in only my fancy panties, watching these two strangers fuck.

No, that's not creepy at all. Not that I care.

The woman bends over and holds on to the coffee table before he slams into her. There's no easing into it. They just immediately start fucking like animals. It's primal and needy and beautiful. He has a fist full of her long black hair in one hand, and with his other, he lifts one of her legs, opening her up more for him. I watch her mouth open wide, and she cries out as he pulls her hair back tighter, and my hand instinctively moves inside my panties.

I rub just a little, not wanting to get off yet, but to ease some of the aching I'm feeling between my legs.

Surprising both me and his companion, the man pulls out of her and guides her to her knees in front of him. The light from the room illuminates him in such a way that it makes him seem otherworldly, a figment of the imagination. If it weren't for the fact that I saw him with my own two eyes in a different setting only a short time ago, I would wonder if this weren't all in my head. I zoom in as close as I can so I can watch his face as she takes all of him into her mouth. My fingers increase their pressure on my clit as I watch his chest muscles involuntarily twitch. He looks like he's trying so hard to hold back, but I wish he'd let go. He's so beautiful when he comes.

His hands on her head guide her to make quick strokes with her mouth a few times before he pulls out again. I guess his knees were getting weak because he turns until his back is facing me and he leans against the window as she takes him in again.

The sight of his back muscles and ass pressed against the glass as he receives pleasure causes my brand new panties to become completely ruined. I collect the wetness on my fingertips and rub even harder. He fucks her face, and I imagine it's me in her place, but I don't dare close my eyes. No way am I missing his orgasm.

Just as my own body starts to tremble, ready to explode, he throws his head back onto the window before painting her face in thick white stripes. I scream out my orgasm as he slides to the floor. My legs are weak, so I crawl into my bed, sated and vowing to buy more of these panties when my budget allows.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **We hope y'all have a Happy 4th of July! If you don't celebrate the 4th, Happy Friday!**

 **Thank you so much for reading and for all of your reviews! We appreciate them so much!**

 **A special thank you to Team JiffyKate: Geekchic12 for fixing our commas and making our words pretty, Pamela and JRay (Rachel) for their insightful pre-reading skills!**

 **Hey, Sarah! *waves***

 **Be safe, enjoy your weekend, and we'll see y'all on Tuesday!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

I've been sitting here staring out this window for so long that I'll be late to work if I don't run, and I mean that literally. I won't have time for breakfast. I'll barely have time to stop at crosswalks. But I wanted a glimpse of him this morning before I left. He wasn't around at all yesterday, and I miss him. I know how crazy that sounds, but it's true.

With a heavy sigh, I put the binoculars on the window ledge and head out the door, locking both locks behind me.

Breathlessly, I speed walk into the library, putting my bag in my locker and heading to the break room for a cup of coffee.

"Well, if it isn't the runaway date," Rose's teasing voice says before I even have a chance to notice her. She's looking up at me over the edge of her glasses, totally rocking the stereotypical sexy librarian persona. I actually laugh nervously. I guess Jake told on me, which is kind of weird.

I push up my own glasses and smooth down my hair. I'm sure it looks a mess after running most of the way here. "What?" I ask, trying to play dumb, giving myself a chance to recover and think of some sort of good excuse.

"Emmett called Jake last night to check in and see how the rest of your date went. Jake mentioned that you practically yelled at the driver to stop the taxi, and the next thing he knew, you were throwing money on the seat and jumping out." Rose shakes her head and peers over her coffee cup at me with a small smile as she blows on the steaming liquid. "What was that all about?" Her tone isn't accusatory, just curious.

"I forgot… something." I fidget with the hem of my shirt and walk over to the coffee pot, avoiding her gaze. Somehow I feel like if she were to look at me long enough, she'd know the truth.

"Forgot something. Mmhmm. I see." I turn around after I pour coffee into my yellow smiley face mug and see her still staring at me. "So, was that something at the pharmacy?"

"Huh?"

"The pharmacy. Jake said he watched you, and you ran into a pharmacy."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot that I needed to pick up a prescription."

"Are you sick?"

"No." I shake my head. _Shit._ I'm a horrible liar. "It's uh…"

"Birth control?" she asks.

Yeah, that's it. "Yeah," I reply, nodding. _Liar, liar, pants on fire._ I've never been on birth control. Shit, I've practically never even been to a doctor. And I definitely don't have a reason to take birth control.

"Well," Rose says, turning around and walking toward the door. "Emmett gave Jake your number. He said he had a really nice time and wants to see you again."

"Really?" After the whole jumping out of the cab thing, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'm surprised he hasn't called already. Emmett said he sounds really interested."

I know the look on my face is dumbfounded because that's exactly how I feel. "Why?" The question leaves my mouth without me thinking about it because for the life of me, I can't imagine why Jake would want to take me on a second date.

"Why not?" Rose asks as she sets her mug down on the desk and turns on the computers. "You're a great girl. I know you don't think so, but you're beautiful and sweet and smart. Any guy would be lucky to date you."

I have to laugh because Rosalie calling me beautiful is so... laughable.

Her expression morphs from smiling to stern in less than a second. "Listen, I know you've never had a good home life, and I know you might feel unlovable, but you're so not. I don't like very many people," she says, smirking. "And I like you." She says that like it's supposed to explain everything, and I smile, shaking my head. "Don't sell yourself short, Bella. If Jake isn't what you want, then go after someone you do want, but don't live your life feeling like you don't deserve to be happy. Because if anybody deserves to be happy, it's you."

The lump in my throat is huge, and I can't even speak for fear that my emotions might overtake my will to keep them at bay. So I nod and give Rose a small smile. Eventually, I'm able to squeak out a thank you, and in a very un-Rose move, she pulls me into a hug. "I mean it," she whispers into my ear, and I squeeze her tighter.

No one has ever told me that. Not even Alice. And Rosalie's right. I've thought many times throughout my life that I don't deserve to be happy. I don't know why, but maybe it's because I've never had someone around to tell me that I do deserve it. Maybe it's because deep down, I always knew I was the reason my mother was a junkie. Maybe it's because I've felt cursed from the get-go. Some people are meant to be happy, and others aren't. I've always put myself in the latter category.

**WaS**

Instead of flying through the front door of the Chinese restaurant, I walk in and step up to the counter. I'm starving. I haven't eaten anything all day, and due to my extravagant purchase over the weekend, I don't have any money left for food until pay day. I'm even out of Ben & Jerry's. That thought makes me sadder than being out of real food. I could easily live on Ben & Jerry's.

"Bella," Mr. Chan says, beaming at me over the counter. "What you like?"

"Um, I'll have a hot and sour soup," I tell him. "With extra wontons, please."

A few minutes later, Mr. Chan hands a brown paper sack over the counter.

"Can I pay you on Thursday?"

"Is on the house." He smiles softly and nods his head.

"Thank you, Mr. Chan."

After hurrying up the stairs, I don't beeline to the window for once. I toss my things on my bed and go straight for the soup. I smile when I open the bag because there is soup and extra wontons, like I asked for, but there's also a carton of chicken and broccoli with two fortune cookies.

As I'm stuffing my face with delicious Chinese food, my cell phone dings. No one ever texts me. Alice says that she always has too much to say, which is the truth, and Rose is too impatient. My stomach flips because I know it's going to be Jake, and I'm not sure how to feel about that. Sure, he was nice, and sure, it feels good to have someone's attention, but I don't know if I want to go on another date, and I suck at telling people no. Somehow, I always get talked into whatever it is they want or need me to do.

I sit for a few more minutes, enjoying my soup, but then curiosity gets the best of me, and I reach for my phone.

 _ **Hope it's okay that I got your number from Emmett. You left so fast I didn't get a chance to ask you for it. I had a great time Saturday, and I'd love to see you again.**_

He'd love to see me again? I don't know what to say to that, so I toss the phone back on the bed and decide to wait to reply.

After I get full, I put my leftovers in the refrigerator and save them for tomorrow. I got off work a little earlier than usual today, so it's only six o'clock. It'll be at least two more hours until he's in the window, if he's there. I hope he's there. Deciding I can't wait until then, I quickly change my clothes and climb into the window sill, pick up the binoculars, and focus in on the apartment on the fourth floor.

I let out a breath, relieved when I see him. My heart aches. He's fully clothed, his tie pulled loose. The expression on his face is weary. He looks out at the city below, lost in thought. What could he be thinking about? Did he have a stressful day? Again, those thoughts make me wonder what he does all day while I'm at the library. His eyebrows furrow together, and he brings one hand up to scrub the scruff on his jaw. Since I first started watching him a few months ago, I've noticed he's only forgone shaving for a day or two a handful of times, but I love it when he does. I love the smoothness and definition of his jaw when he's shaven, but the scruff gives him a very manly, gritty look. It fits with the intensity in his eyes. Something is definitely on his mind, and I squeeze my legs together tightly, thinking about what that means for later.

Will it be slow and methodical?

Will it be fast and chaotic?

Will it be hard and forceful?

I'd gladly take any… anything he's willing to give. I think about getting dressed and waiting around down in front of his apartment building and following him, but I promised myself I wouldn't do that again. I'll watch him from here, but I'm not _that_ person.

He rubs his chest as he stands there, like it hurts, and I mimic him because watching him do that makes _mine_ hurt. After placing a hand against the glass, like a prayer or a promise, he walks away, turning for the room that's always closed up—his bedroom. I wonder what it looks like. Are there pictures? The rest of his apartment that I can see doesn't have anything on the walls. Everything is clean lines and hard surfaces, a lot like its occupant.

Reluctantly, I put the binoculars down and head for the bathroom to soak away the day and decide what my reply to Jake will be.

**WaS**

Sitting on the edge of my bed, holding my phone with my finger hovering over the button to send the text message I just typed out, I make a mental list of pros and cons.

He's nice, good-looking, not completely horrible to be around. Maybe after another date we'll find something we have in common? Maybe he'll kiss me? Maybe we'll do more than kiss?

 _Do I want to do that?_

No. Not right now, but I might after I get to know him better.

The worst thing that could happen is I could be bored to tears, and I'll have to make up a lame excuse to leave.

I swipe my finger over the screen of my phone and push send.

 **I'd like that.**

I know it's short, but I don't want to say anything I don't mean. Saying _I'd love to_ would be lying.

A few minutes later, as I'm staring out into space, my phone buzzes in my hand.

 _ **Can I see you tomorrow night?**_

 _On a Tuesday?_

 **I don't get off work until 7:00.**

A split second later, my phone buzzes again.

 _ **That's fine. How about a late dinner? Say 8:00? Or I could pick you up at the library?**_

My gaze flickers to the window. Normally, I'm sitting in that window at eight o'clock.

 _Get a fucking life, Bella._

 **8:00 sounds good. How about I meet you somewhere?**

I don't want him to pick me up. I don't know why, but I'd rather find my own way there.

 _ **There's a great little restaurant not far from your apartment. I'll text you the address. It should be within walking distance for you.**_

 _Does he have to be so nice and accommodating?_

 **Sounds good. See you then.**

As soon as I send the text, another one comes in from him with the address for the restaurant, and it is right around the corner. I've walked past there many times but never been inside. It's way out of my budget, and I immediately have a sick, heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. In my limited experience, when guys take you to a nice restaurant, they expect things in return. I think about texting him back and backing out, but I don't. I'll just pay for my own damn dinner.

Tossing my phone on the bed, I walk over to the window. Picking up the binoculars, I focus in on the dark apartment. It's after nine o'clock, so I guess he's not going to be there tonight. Maybe he's still in his bedroom. Maybe he's been there all evening. Whatever was bothering him may have kept him from coming out.

Even with nothing to keep my attention, I continue to watch. Thanks to a lamp close to the window that's turned on, I can still see into the apartment. He has a new piece of furniture, a black leather bench that sits low to the floor. It's positioned right in front of the large window, and my mind goes wild with visions of him stretched out on it, looming over a beautiful woman, using it as a perch for many late night activities.

Soon, the heaviness of the binoculars makes my arms tired, so I set them down and lean back, resting my head against the window. I keep my eyes on the apartment on the fourth floor until I drift off to sleep.

**WaS**

After work, I walk home like it's a normal day. I know I should hurry so I have time to primp or whatever women do to get themselves ready for a date, but I don't feel like doing any of that. If Jake wants to like me, then he can like me just as I am. I don't have any desire to be something I'm not for him.

I wave to Mr. Chan on my way to my apartment and take the stairs at a leisurely pace. When I walk in and toss my bag on the bed, my phone buzzes.

 _ **Are we still on for 8:00? Looking forward to seeing you. :)**_

I let out a deep sigh and text back, fighting back a smile.

 **Yeah, I'll see you there.**

I run a brush through my hair and look at my shirt and skirt that I wore to work. It's not really date material. Maybe I should change into something else. My options are limited, but I do have another sundress I could wear and a cardigan I could throw over it. Maybe I'll even wear my nude heels. They're the only dressy shoes I have, so it's those or my boring flats I wear to work every day. Or the sandals I wore last weekend… or the old as dirt tennis shoes I still have from high school.

After I decide to go with the dress and the heels, I change and give myself a once over again in the mirror, feeling a little bit better about myself. I pinch my cheeks, giving them some natural color, and swipe on some tinted lip gloss. I'm about to leave but stop again and decide a little mascara wouldn't hurt. I don't know what's come over me.

Maybe I like that Jake wants to take me out on a Tuesday night.

Maybe I like that someone notices me, even if it's not the person I want to notice me.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm walking into the dimly lit restaurant. I immediately see Jake sitting in a corner booth, waving me over. He stands as I get closer to the table and leans over, placing his lips on my cheek. "It's good to see you again, Bella."

His smile is genuine, and he smells good. It's a crisp, clean smell—different from _him_ , but appealing. I don't hate it. I also didn't hate the kiss on my cheek.

"It's good to see you too," I tell him, giving him a smile that I hope seems as genuine as his.

"Have you been here before?" he asks as we slide into the booth.

"No," I say, looking around the room. "I, uh, haven't eaten at any restaurants here, actually. Well, except for the Chinese restaurant that's in the same building as my apartment."

He nods. "Just around the corner, right?"

"Yeah."

"I've heard that's good. Maybe we'll eat there sometime?"

He's already making plans for another date, and we're only five minutes into this one. I smile and nod. "Maybe."

The waiter comes and takes our drink order. Jake orders a beer. I order a water.

He begins making small talk. He tells me about his job. Some of the things he's telling me are repeats of our conversation from Saturday. I don't hold it against him, though, because he's a banker, and there're only so many interesting things you can say about that. He tries to make it sound impressive, and I'm sure it is, but to me, it's boring. It's not like he's saving lives or changing the world. It sounds to me like he helps rich people become richer.

When the waiter comes back to take our food order, Jake orders a steak. I order a salad. He frowns, telling me I can order what I want. I smile and tell him a salad is what I want. I'm not one of those girls who only eats lettuce in front of a date. I hope that's not what he thinks. I just want to be able to pay for my own meal.

While we wait on our food, Jake talks about his sister and her husband buying a house in the Hamptons. He talks about how beautiful it is and asks if I've been there. I can tell he's a little shocked when I tell him that before I moved to the city, I'd never been out of Middletown.

"We should go one weekend," he says and then takes a sip of his beer. His brown eyes dance as he smiles and raises his eyebrows. "It'd be fun. We could get out of the city, and you could see the beach."

My heart beats faster, and I war with myself over how to react to that. I still don't know how I feel about him making plans for the future. I feel like I should say something, give him a clue as to how I feel, but he's so nice I don't want to hurt his feelings.

"Just as friends, Bella." He must see the indecision on my face.

Just as friends. Yeah. Maybe I could do friends. And then another embarrassing thought crosses my mind, and I blurt it out before I have a chance to stop myself. "Are you doing this because Rose and Alice think I need to get out of my apartment?" It all makes sense now. This is probably some kind of pity date. I feel the heat on my cheeks, and I swallow down a harsh laugh. I'm an idiot.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No." His eyes level on me as his hand slides across the table, resting on top of mine, and surprisingly enough, it doesn't feel awful. "I asked you out because I genuinely like you. That's it. But if friends is what you want, then friends is what we'll be. I could tell you were uncomfortable, and I don't want that."

I let out a deep sigh and cover my face with my hand, the one he's not semi-holding.

"Stop," Jake demands, gently pulling my arm, forcing me to look at him. "Let's eat and have a good time tonight. Our food's here," he says, pointing to our waiter carrying a tray.

"Okay."

"Okay." He smiles, and it's sweet and caring. It feels good.

That's how the rest of the evening goes—good. The food is good. The conversation, although mostly one-sided, is good. I let Jake pay for dinner. He's a gentleman and walks me to the corner of my street. He wants to walk me to my door, but I assure him I can make it the rest of the way on my own, and it'll be easier for him to get a taxi at the corner. When I get to the door that leads up the stairs to my apartment, I look back to see him still standing there, watching me.

When I get to my apartment and have the door locked behind me, I practically sprint the short distance to the window. It's probably too late. I've probably missed him, but I have to make sure before I go to bed.

Picking up the binoculars, I quickly focus on the apartment, not really having to try very hard. It's like they're on autopilot. When I see him standing there, I sigh.

He's fully clothed, and so is she, but he has her on her knees on the new black bench. Her mouth is open wide, her eyes are closed in ecstasy. He thrusts so hard she's forced to brace herself with one hand on the window. I grip the binoculars tighter, bracing one of my own hands against my window, watching and exhaling quick, shallow breaths. As he bites his bottom lip, I do the same, pressing my legs together tightly in search of friction. With both hands on her hips, he pulls her against him forcefully and jerks twice before he stills.

It takes a second for her to open her eyes, as if she's coming back down from a high. A small smile plays on her lips, and she brushes her hair off her face. He pulls out and takes the condom off, twisting it up and tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Before she even gets her dress smoothed back down, he has his cock shoved back into his slacks, zipped up like nothing happened.

The woman walks over and grabs a small clutch off the coffee table, shoving a piece of fabric inside and snapping it shut. There doesn't seem to be much conversation exchanged between them, maybe a few words, and then she's gone.

I continue watching as he walks over to his bar and pours himself a drink. He walks back over to the window and loosens his tie with one hand while bringing the glass up to his lips, taking a long draw from the glass.

 _That_ was so much better than good.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** *smokes cigarette* It's been awhile since we've done our regular A/Ns. Was that last little bit as good for you as it was for us...I mean, Bella?

 **Jiff:** It's so good to be back! Any bit (or tip) with Edward is good for me, just sayin.

 **Jenny Kate:** I would gladly take just his tip. Normally, I think that's a pretty stupid game, but it's one I'd be willing to play with him.

 **Jiff:** I'll play anything with him. _Any. Thing._

 **Jenny Kate:** We'd love to hear what you think about the chapter or the story so far...or tell us your favorite game. ;) Or maybe your favorite Ben  & Jerry's flavor. Poor Bella ran out, but hopefully she'll be back in stock soon.

 **Jiff:** I feel her pain. I still can't get Blue Belle ice cream AND I don't have a fine man to spy on! *cries into my new Trader Joe's ice cream while looking at Robert Pattinson pics*

 **Jenny Kate:** *pats Jiff's hair* There, there. I think Trader Joe's ice cream and Rob porn are very acceptable replacements. Close seconds, if you ask me.

 **Jiff:** Yeah, I really have nothing to complain about.

 **Jenny Kate:** We'd like to thank our team: Geekchic12, J Ray (Rachel), and Pamela! We love y'all!

 **Jiff:** I hope you had a great Fourth of July, Sarah!


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Jake's texts have continued steadily since our date, sometimes just to say hello and other times to ask how my day was. In one, he asked me to go out with him again this weekend, and I gave the excuse of needing to go to my mom's family therapy session today. He said it was fine and he'd be happy to take me out tonight. He makes it so easy for me.

The harder I try to not like him, the harder he tries to _make_ me like him. Or maybe he's not trying. Maybe it's just how he is. Easy.

I should want that—him. But I don't even have to ask myself why I don't. Actually, I don't want to go there, knowing the answer makes me sound crazy and in need of my own therapy.

 _He_ wasn't in the window this morning. I haven't seen him since a hot, steamy episode on Wednesday night. The girl looked familiar, someone he'd been with before. He'll do that occasionally, but it's been a while.

The fact that he's had that one more than once makes me wonder what it is about her that's so special. She had messy waves in her dark hair. Instead of taking her from behind, like he does so often, he pulled a chair over by the window and sat down, pulling her on top of him. He wanted to see her face. He kept brushing her hair away and holding it back. Her tits would bounce in his face, and he'd catch one of them in his mouth, sucking it in.

I wonder what that feels like. From the way she threw her head back, I can only guess that it felt amazing. Something else I noticed was that he held her to him while they were fucking and briefly afterward. He seemed desperate and needy. She didn't stay or do anything else out of the ordinary, but after watching him for so long, I noticed little differences in his behavior.

That night, instead of a glass, he brought the entire bottle of alcohol with him to the window after the woman left, and he stood there for what seemed like hours, taking drinks and staring out into the night. I couldn't stop watching him. I didn't go to bed until midnight that night, and I paid for it the rest of the week.

Stretching lazily, I wonder if he'll be around today. And then I hope he's not, because I have to leave in an hour to walk to the rehab facility, and I have no idea how long the therapy session will last since this is the first one I'll be attending. After that, I'll have to come back here to get dressed to go out with Jake.

I hop out of bed and go straight for the binoculars, hoping for a glimpse of him to hold me over. The window is empty, and his apartment is dark. I feel a twinge of longing, but I push it down. Maybe he'll be there later tonight when I get back.

After I shower and dress, I grab a bowl of cereal and read a few chapters in the book I checked out for the weekend. It helps pass the time and keeps me from obsessing over what's _not_ on the other side of the window this morning… or who, rather.

Walking toward the facility, I think about stopping for a Kit Kat for my mom as a peace offering, but I'm still pissed about our last talk. She doesn't deserve my time, and she definitely doesn't deserve chocolate. I don't even know why I'm going in the first place. Alice said to do it for myself, for closure if nothing else, so I guess that's a good reason to go. At least I won't have regrets, and I'll know I did everything I could.

I'm not the quitter. My mother is.

With that thought in mind, I walk quicker and with more purpose. I'm ready to get this shit over with.

At the front desk, I show my I.D. and tell the lady working there that I'm Isabella Swan and I'm here for Renee Swan's family session. She looks down at a chart and frowns, pausing for longer than seems necessary.

"What?" I ask, my heart pounding because all I can think of are worst case scenarios. Maybe she left. Maybe she got a hold of some drugs and overdosed. Maybe she's dead.

"Looks like they bumped the session up, so it's already going. You're late." She looks back up at me and continues to frown, like I've disappointed her.

Something like relief washes over me. It startles me that I'd still feel that for my mom after everything she's done and everything she's said to me. But in this moment, I know I'm not just here for myself. Somewhere deep down, I'm still hoping for a miracle… hoping she'll love me.

"I'm sorry. I was told the session was scheduled for eleven. By my calculations, I still have five minutes to spare."

"You missed last week's session. It was rescheduled for ten forty-five. You're late. Follow me," she instructs and begins walking down a long corridor. Stopping at the last door on the right, she knocks twice before sticking her head into the room and announcing that I'm here in an annoyed tone. When she turns back around, I smile apologetically, but it does nothing to defrost her icy gaze. I can see where she might think I'm the one to blame here or that I'm not supportive, but the fact that she knows nothing about me or my life or how we ended up here pisses me the hell off. When she turns to walk away, I flip her off behind her back and walk into the room, letting the door close behind me.

And then my entire world tilts on its axis.

My breath catches in my throat, and I think I might need the Heimlich or maybe mouth to mouth.

I'm definitely feeling faint or dizzy or maybe both.

 _Oh, dear God. The room is spinning._

"Bella?" My Mom's voice echoes in my ears, and I realize I'm turned around with my hand on the door knob, ready to bolt. I rest my forehead against the cool metal door and try to regain my composure before turning back around.

It's _him_.

 _He's_ sitting in the chair opposite my mother.

I struggle to get enough oxygen into my lungs to keep me from passing out, and I attempt a smile.

"I'm Mr. Cullen," he says, and I can't make coherent thoughts, let alone words, so I just nod. He offers his hand, and I freeze. I've wondered for so long what his touch would feel like, and being in this room with him and him offering me his hand is too much. I don't know if I can do this, but I want to. Reaching out, I place my hand in his, and I close my eyes, memorizing the warmth and the way it sets my body on fire. How one simple, innocent touch can do that is beyond me. I can't comprehend what's going on inside me right now, so I sit and let him talk, his silky smooth voice filling the space around me. He could be reciting the phone book, and I would be hanging on his every word.

"Thank you for coming today, Bella," he says, and the way my name sounds coming from his mouth is what my dreams will be made of from this moment on. "Renee and I have been discussing her progress so far. Would you like to catch your daughter up on what we've been talking about?" he asks my mother.

She looks over at me, and I can tell by the quizzical look in her eye that she's trying to figure out what's going on with me. "I've been clean for seventy-six days," she begins. The rest of the words coming out of her mouth are lost on me. The few things I pick up on are things I've heard before. She probably has this memorized. Renee is good at making people think she's got her shit together, but it never lasts long. The longest I ever remember her being around and being sober is a few weeks. She stuck around after my dad died and tried to pretend like she was going to be the mother I always needed, but after the funeral and after all the family left, she couldn't handle it. The day-to-day struggle was too much for her. I woke up one morning, a sixteen-year-old scared girl, to an empty house. She'd taken anything of value, and she'd left. The only thing she couldn't take was the hidden savings account my dad had thankfully put my name on, and that's what I lived on until I could get a job and fend for myself.

While she talks, I watch him. If he notices, he doesn't look up. He keeps his gaze on my mother, with his hands tented and pressed to his lips. I can tell there are things he doesn't believe in her story. I can see it in his eyes, the ones that are such a brilliant shade of blue that I'm lost in them. I've often wondered what color they were. I feel like I'm watching him like I normally do, but it's in high definition. When he takes his gaze off of her and directs it to me, my breath catches in my throat again, and I swear my heart stops beating. I turn my eyes to the floor, unable to hold his gaze.

"Bella, this week's session is for talking about how you both feel. It's important to get those feelings out in the open. This is a safe zone. Anything you say here will be treated with the utmost confidence. Renee had a chance to share her feelings last week, so why don't you go first this week?"

He wants me to talk. To him. About my feelings. "I can't do that," I blurt out before I even have a chance to think about it. There is no way in hell I can do this. I should leave, but that would mean not seeing him without two windows and two hundred feet between us. I can't do that either.

"You can," he assures me. "Renee, you'd like to hear how Bella feels, wouldn't you?"

I don't look at him, because I can't, but I look over to my mom and see her watching me. She nods her head before clearing her throat. "Yes, I would." I almost believe her, but after her confessions a couple of weeks ago, I find it hard to believe that she cares about anything I have to say. And I sure as hell don't think telling her how I feel will make a difference.

"She needs to hear how you feel," he encourages me. "It's part of her rehabilitation. One of the most beneficial steps is seeing how her addictions have affected her family—owning her actions. Clearing the air is imperative."

I take my chances and look up at him. He's more beautiful in person than he is behind the glass. The other two times I've seen him outside of his apartment, I never got a chance to see him from the front, so this is new to me. Everything about being in this room with him is overwhelming my senses—the touch of his hand, the smell of his cologne, the way his voice soothes my soul and sets it on fire at the same time. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before exhaling.

"I, uh… I'm not sure how I feel. I guess... I'm hopeful," I say, trying to make coherent thoughts and not sound like a complete idiot, but I'm not sure it works.

"Hopeful is good," he says, nodding. Our eyes lock for a beat too long, and then I have to shift my gaze back to the floor. "What else?"

"Numb," I say honestly. "I feel like I've done this before, so many times, and I don't have any feelings left."

"That's normal," he assures, and I hear him lean forward. "Renee, how long have you been an addict?"

"Twenty-four years."

"Bella, how old are you?" he asks.

"Twenty-four."

The silence in the room is deafening. He begins to make notes on his notepad, and I wonder if he's connecting the dots, realizing that I'm the reason she's an addict.

I wonder if he hates me too.

For the remainder of the session, I keep my eyes on the floor and only speak when asks a question. When it's finally over, I don't even say goodbye to my mother or to him. I hurry out the door like the place is on fire. Even though everything inside me is yelling _stay_ , my brain is still smarter than that, and it's telling me I need space and air.

When I get outside the building, I rest my hands on my knees and take a deep, cleansing breath. My head's still spinning with the past thirty minutes, and I can't get a grip. Glancing across the street, I see the small coffee shop I've noticed before, and I decide that's what I need before making the walk back to my apartment. Something to wake me up and lift the fog that came with sitting in the same room as _him_.

 _Did that really just happen?_

It's weird, because I've followed him down the street, and I've watched him for hours through the window, but none of that could've prepared me for being in a confined space with him.

As I step through the door of the small coffee shop, the bell chimes, and the man behind the counter greets me. I walk up and order a black coffee. I don't need fluff. Actually, I feel like I need something stronger than coffee, but this will have to do.

After paying, I slide down to the end of the bar and wait for my cup. The door chimes again, and the man behind the counter calls out another greeting, but it's more familiar than the one he offered me.

"Edward," the man says with a smile in his voice.

Turning my head to the side, I see him. I smell him. He's close enough I could reach out and touch him, but I don't. I close my eyes and inhale, even though I was just in his presence ten minutes ago. I feel like I'm taking a hit, like I'm the junkie.

"Mac," he says, nodding to the man behind the counter. "How's the coffee business today?"

His voice is so smooth, even better than when we were in the session. It's more relaxed, less professional.

"Can't complain," Mac says, sliding a cup across the counter.

 _Edward_. _Edward Cullen._ I repeat his name over and over in my head, letting it seep into my bones.

I take a chance and look over at him again, needing to match the name I've wanted to know for so long with the man I've wanted for even longer.

He glances over at me, and recognition flashes across his achingly beautiful face. "Hello," he says, nodding and taking the lid off the cup before taking a drink. I can't stop myself from watching his lips. They entrance me, the way they pull together to test the hot liquid. I've seen him do something similar before, but it's different with him standing right in front of me.

"Bella, right?" he asks.

I realize I'm standing there, making a complete fool out of myself again. My cheeks flame, and I nod. "Yes," I squeak out.

"It was really brave of you to come today. I know the first session can be hard, but you did great." The confidence in his voice is mesmerizing. "I hope I'll see you again next Saturday?"

It's a question. He wants me to answer. He hopes he sees me again next Saturday. "Yes," I blurt out, wide-eyed, hoping I don't look as crazy on the outside as I feel on the inside.

"Great." He nods his head, dipping down for another sip of coffee. "Well, have a nice day, Bella." And then he does something that I don't get to see often enough. He smiles.

I swallow hard and smile back. "You too," I say quietly, holding the cup of coffee close to me. I stand there and watch him leave, hurrying back across the street. His long legs take on a wide stride. He slips his free hand into his pocket while he continues to sip the coffee. I continue watching him until he disappears behind the gray doors.

"Can I get you something else?" the man behind the counter asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"No." I shake my head, trying to clear it. "Thank you." I force a smile and walk out the door, thinking about going back into the facility and finding him but knowing I can't. I wouldn't know the first thing to say, and I know it wouldn't matter anyway. But I have no idea how I'm going to go back to watching him in the window after today.

I wanted this. I wanted a chance to know him—his name, his voice, his touch—but now that I have it, I don't know what to do with it.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** Ahhhhhhh! He's there. They met. *deep breaths*

 **Jiff:** Finally! I know it didn't happen like most of you expected, so I'm very curious what you all think about their first real interaction.

 **Jenny Kate:** The good news is that they are now introduced.

 **Jiff:** They are and now she knows where to find him during the day. LOL

 **Jenny Kate:** Oh, boy. This could open up a whole new can of worms.

 **Jiff:** Hopefully, she doesn't bother him while he's at work, though. That would be really awkward.

 **Jenny Kate:** Guess we'll have to wait and see...or they'll *points to the readers* have to wait and see. Watch and See. Whatever. ;)

 **Jiff:** You're so clever. ;-) Big thanks to our girls Geeky, Rachel, and Pamela! We love y'all! Also, thanks for all the faves and reviews. We appreciate it more than you know!

 **Jenny Kate:** Call me, Sarah!


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

"You seem distracted." Jake is staring at me from across the table as he brings a long-neck bottle to his lips. There's a part of me—the part that hasn't been with anyone in so long she forgot what it was like, the part that knows he's really good-looking—that wants to like him like I think he likes me, but I can't… I don't. And it wouldn't be fair to him to pretend that I do.

"I just have a lot on my mind." I take a drink of my water and glance over to look out the window we're seated next to. There's no way I could tell him what's really on my mind: I just met the object of my affection, who I peep at through my binoculars while he has sex with women, and who I occasionally stalk. Oh, by the way, he's also my mother's therapist. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around that fact.

"You can talk to me, you know."

I look back at him and smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes. Maybe I _should_ unload on Jake. Maybe then he'd realize what a mess my life is and stop trying so hard. "You don't want to hear about my problems."

"If you want to tell me about them, I do," he says, and I believe him, but it still doesn't make me want to tell him. I know from the things he's told me that his family is damn near perfect. His sister, Leah, is married to a wealthy banker, and they live in the Hamptons. His parents have been married for over thirty years. His grandparents have been married for almost seventy. They have big family dinners and spend every holiday together. How do I fit into something like that?

I don't.

"It's complicated and depressing," I tell him, picking at the food that's left on my plate. "Let's talk about something else."

Jake does what he does best: he makes it easy. He starts talking about a new account he landed at work. From there, he flows into talking about how he introduced his sister to Embry, her husband. He was one of Jake's frat brothers. They went to Harvard together.

The more he talks, the more I'm reminded of the completely different worlds we come from. I'm not the kind of girl he's supposed to end up with. He deserves an Ivy League girl, someone who can match his stories of frat parties and fancy beach houses. What do I have to offer a guy like Jake? What does he want with a girl like me? I spend the rest of the evening nodding and smiling when I'm supposed to. Occasionally, I interject a one-word response, but that's about it. Jake does most of the talking. He _really_ likes talking. Normally, I really like listening, but a girl can only take so much.

When he walks me down the sidewalk to my building, I stop right before we get to the glass door and place my hand on Jake's chest, holding him in place and forcing him to look at me. I don't want him to miss what I'm about to say. "We're just friends," I blurt out. I've never been one to beat around the bush. I have a knack for spewing things out when they're on my mind.

"Yeah. Of course." He sputters and nods his head, looking down at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am.

"Okay, good. I just didn't want to be giving off the wrong vibe or anything. I'm just… I'm not looking for a relationship right now. So, I wanted you to know before you ask me out on another date." There. That feels better. It's not the complete truth, but at least he knows I only want to be friends. Rose said guys suck at reading signals and that if I'm not feeling it with Jake, I just need to put on my big-girl panties and tell him.

"Friends," Jake says, smiling.

"Friends," I repeat, nodding my head.

For a second, I think he's getting ready to say something like, "it's been nice knowing you" or some clichè phrase people say when they decide to _just_ be friends.

But then he leans over and kisses my cheek, and I stiffen.

 _What the fuck was that?_

Did we not just have an understanding? Would he kiss Emmett's cheek? No. He wouldn't.

He takes off walking in the direction we came from but turns back to look at me when he's a little ways down the sidewalk. I'm sure he can see the frustration on my face because he chuckles before yelling out, "That was just a _friendly_ kiss on the cheek, Bella."

I let out a groan and push the glass door open.

"Ah, Miss Bella have date," Mr. Chan says with a wide smile on his face, his eyes beaming with happiness.

"Just friends," I tell him before taking the first step. I think about walking back outside and yelling it down the sidewalk to Jake's retreating form. Then I'd really look crazy.

"Okay, Bella. Just friends." I hear him chuckle to himself, a lot like the way Jake did out on the sidewalk.

 _What is it with men?_

Obviously, this friend thing isn't going to work out.

**WaS**

Two days.

That's as long as I could stay away from my binoculars… from _him_.

I tried to stay away, now that I know who he is, but my curiosity got the better of me.

It was odd, though, watching him as he fucked his latest conquest as she leaned over the back of his sofa. Knowing he's a therapist—my mom's therapist at that—makes me even more confused. He has a real job, seems nice and genuinely concerned for his clients' well-being, and yet he screws random women while seemingly having no connection with them outside of physical release. He reminds me of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with what seem like his opposing personalities. I guess what they say about psychologists being as crazy or troubled as their patients is true.

Not that I have any room to judge.

Throwing away last night's empty carton of Chocolate Therapy reminds me of Mr. Cullen's—Edward's—lady friend. Her skin was just as dark as the expression on his face as he took her over and over again.

I should forget about him, but I can't. I want to figure him out just as much as I want to be pressed against that window of his.

**WaS**

"Earth to Bella!"

My head pops up at the sound of Alice's voice, my heart racing like I just got caught daydreaming on the job… which is exactly what happened.

"I know you're not fantasizing about your new banker friend, so who is it, huh? Who has you all secretive and guilty looking? You can't keep this to yourself much longer. Rose and I will figure it out eventually."

I want to tell them about Edward. I really do. Alice and Rose are my friends, and I know they wouldn't judge me. To be honest, it'd be really great to unload everything I've been thinking and feeling lately onto them, but I can't. I'm scared, ashamed, and confused, so my secret remains my own.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Alice." I walk to the nearest cart full of books that need to be shelved and head to the stacks.

She calls out behind me, "You're a liar, Bella Swan, and I'll be watching you."

Maybe one of these days, I'll confess.

**WaS**

I'm seeing my mom in a couple of hours, and I'm already freaking out. Not about her, of course, but about Edward. Just thinking about sitting in the same room with him again has my palms all sweaty. Would it be bad to have a couple of shots of Patron before visiting my mom in rehab?

Part of me wants to dress up a little, make more of an effort in my appearance, but knowing Renee, she'd call me out if I showed up in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt. Making me squirm with embarrassment is one of her favorite pastimes.

I decide to keep the jeans but wear a pretty blouse Rose gave me for my birthday. I swipe on a coat of lip gloss and rush out the door before I can change my mind and wipe it off.

As I approach the rehab facility, my steps slow, and my heart speeds up. Thankfully, there's a shaded sitting area near the front door. I force myself to sit and close my eyes, trying desperately to calm the fuck down. I honestly don't know how I'm going to make it through this, but I have to do it. I refuse to back down from Renee, and I'll be damned if I pass up an opportunity to share space with Edward.

I wait until it's fifteen minutes before the session starts to enter the building and sign in. The same lady from last week is at the front desk, and she has the nerve to look surprised that I'm here on time. Bitch.

She gives me a condescending smile after walking me down to the same room that was used last time. As she turns to walk away, I'm about to say something to her when someone across the hall catches my eye.

Long, sleek blonde hair and a face I can't forget. The snark completely leaves my brain as I recognize the woman as being one of Edward's girls.

 _Blondie Ambition._

I'm green with envy because she's easily one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen this close up. Pair that with the fact Edward's fucked her against his window more than once, and my jealousy increases tenfold.

"Bella, I'm happy you're here."

Oh, shit. It's him. He's talking to me, and I can't say anything because I'm still wanting to spit nails after seeing his fuck buddy across the hall.

I force a smile onto my face, which probably looks more like a grimace, and do some kind of weird head-bob move that makes me cringe internally.

 _Keep this up, Bella, and there'll never be any window fucking for you._

Edward puts his hand on my shoulder and looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. "Don't be nervous. Today will be a good day. I can feel it."

The only thing I'm feeling at the moment is the warmth from his hand radiating throughout my body, causing goosebumps to cover my skin. If he notices, he doesn't react other than giving my shoulder a brief squeeze before opening the door and holding it for me.

He has to know the effect he has on women… on me. I'm sure he gets this reaction from women all the time, unless he thinks I'm always a bumbling idiot. It's time to pull myself together and act like a normal human being, one that can carry on a conversation and make eye contact without drooling all over myself.

I walk into the room and sit in the same chair as l did last week. Renee isn't here yet, so I decide to take a chance and ask Edward a question that's been on my mind since day one.

"Do you think Renee will be able to stay clean this time?"

He sits across from me with a sigh and looks me in the eye. "Bella, I can't discuss your mother's case with you without her here, but I can tell you her sobriety depends solely on her. She needs to be in charge of her life, not me and certainly not you. She also needs support to be successful, though. I'm going to do what I can, but she'll need you too. Are you willing to be there for her?"

"It's no secret Renee and I aren't close, Mr. Cullen, but I want her to be okay… to be healthy. I'll do what I need to do, but I'm not expecting puppies and rainbows."

He laughs, and it's the most incredible sound I've ever heard. I want more of it.

"That's fair, but please, call me Edward."

I clear my throat and answer, "Okay," marveling at the smile he gives me. But then my mom walks in and effectively ruins the moment.

After she sits down, Edward begins. "Hello, Renee. How are you feeling today?"

My mother huffs out a laugh and pulls her knees up in the chair. She's lost weight since she's been here, but even so, she looks healthier. I'm not sure if anything on the inside is changing, but her skin looks better, more color, and her eyes aren't glazed over. "I'm feeling just peachy."

Apparently, it's been a rough day at rehab.

"Care to discuss?" Edward asks, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. I can't help but stare, watching his every move.

"I'm tired of this place. I'm ready to leave." Her voice sounds defeated, but there's little resolve to them. She rests her head against the wall behind her and lets out a deep breath.

"Are you really, or are you just having a bad day?" Edward counters. He pauses for a minute, letting that question linger. "Since we're on the topic, what are your plans for when you check out of here?"

Renee barks out a harsh laugh. "I don't have any."

"Well, then I think your premature departure wouldn't be the wisest decision, would it?" he asks calmly.

She shakes her head and wipes a stray tear off her cheek.

"So, let's pick up where we left off last week."

"What do you want to talk about?" Renee asks in a bored tone. If it weren't for the gorgeous man sitting across from me, stealing all of my attention, my mother's behavior and attitude would be putting me in a bad mood. But I can't seem to find it in me to care while I'm sharing the same air as him.

"I want to talk about triggers," Edward says, leaning back in his seat. "Renee, you and I have discussed in depth the details of when you became an addict, but I think it's important to discuss the triggers—the things that kept you using the last twenty-four years."

Okay, that's a mood changer.

I sit farther back in my chair and wipe my palms on my thighs. I'd actually like to hear her answer to this. I've always wondered it myself—the whys.

Renee sits quietly for a while. Maybe she's delaying her response, or maybe she really has to think this hard about it. I'm not sure, but it gives me more time to watch Edward. He's very patient. It's not lost on me that in here, he is almost the complete opposite of what he's like at the window. There, he's aggressive and impulsive. Here, he's comforting and calm.

"Renee," he says, prompting her.

She lets out a deep breath before she begins. "Escape," she admits. "Escaping my past, my present, the cards I've been dealt. Sometimes, I wanted to escape the pain or the guilt, but it was always for an escape from something. In the beginning, I escaped motherhood, and the drugs helped me forget the pain and disappointment of not being able to realize my dreams. When Charles died, I started using even more to numb the pain of his loss and the guilt I felt for leaving Bella behind. Any time I felt the need to escape life, I would use."

Edward shifts his eyes toward me but quickly turns them back to my mother. I continue to watch him—the way his jaw tightens and the way nostrils flare—and I wonder, like I have so many times before, what he's thinking.

I'm actually kind of shocked to hear her fess up to all of that. I wonder how much she's told Edward. I wonder if he knows that she wishes she'd never had me.

"That's good, Renee. It's important to recognize those things. Now that you're clean, how do you feel when you think about your life, your past, Bella, Charles?"

Hearing Edward mention my father is weird. It's strange for him to know so much about me. I guess we both know each other's secrets.

"Sometimes, when I have a memory come to mind, that's when I want the drugs the most. I want them so bad that I feel like screaming and crying and breaking down the damn door to get to them."

"It's okay to scream and cry. Letting those emotions be felt is good."

"What about the breaking down the door part?"

"That's what we're trying to help you with. During this next phase of your rehabilitation, you're going to have to learn to lean on your support system. For now, that's me and Bella. My office is always open."

"Bella, is there anything you'd like to add?"

"Uh, no," I say, shaking my head.

"This session is for you too. If you have something to get off your chest, this is a good place to do it."

I look over at my mother, and she's looking at me. Her eyes are tired. I nod my head. "Okay."

"Well, I guess we're done for today," he says, standing from his chair. "I know this is hard, but it's good for both of you to get all of this out in the open. The road to recovery is long, and a lot of the time, it's painful. But it's important to open up the lines of communication and understand how you got here. Then the healing can begin."

I nod again, unsure of what to say. His eyes are on me, and his close proximity has my heart racing, just like that. "Bella, I'll see you next week. Renee, if you need me, you know where to find me." I watch him walk out of the office. Blondie Ambition is standing on the other side of the hallway. My body tenses, expecting to have to see them interact, but he brushes right past her, like she's not even there.

"Thank you for coming," my mother says, forcing my attention away from the hallway and back to her. "I know this is probably uncomfortable for you, and I'm sure you hate me for the things I've said and done. I don't know why you keep coming back, but thank you."

She touches my cheek and pauses for a second, and then she's gone too.

It's been another crazy day at rehab, and I need a cup of coffee to clear my head, so I slip out the door and down the hall, heading straight for the coffee shop across the street.

And maybe I'm hoping Edward will show up like he did last week. Okay, I'm _definitely_ hoping Edward shows up like he did last week.

"One black coffee," I tell the guy behind the counter. After paying, I step down to the end to wait, and like clockwork, the bell over the door chimes, and I can't help the small smile that creeps up on my face. He walks straight to the counter, and the guy greets him like he did last week, immediately giving him his order. Edward gives him money and puts a hefty tip in his jar.

As he turns around to leave, he sees me. I nod and smile. He does the same.

"Bella," he acknowledges.

"Great coffee," I say, lifting my cup. I'm making lame small talk, but I don't know what else to say.

"The best," he agrees, taking the cup to his lips.

"It's a good thing there's not a bar across the street." I don't know why I just said that. Sometimes I say really stupid things.

He laughs, and once again, it's music to my ears. "They'd make a killing. I've told Mac he should look into getting his liquor license."

The bell above the door chimes again, and in walks Blondie Ambition.

 _Are you fucking kidding me?_

I duck my head, like she might recognize me.

"Edward," she says as she breezes past him.

"Jane," he says with zero emotion in his voice.

"I'll see you next week, Bella." He gives me a small smile and walks out the door.

Instead of leaving, I sit at a small table in the corner of the shop, and I watch the woman with long blonde hair, and I wonder what it's like to be her.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jiff:** More interaction, yay! And more smiles from Mr. Cullen!

 **Jenny Kate:** A girl could get used to those smiles...she could also instantaneously combust.

 **Jiff:** Did you notice there were NO smiles for Ms. Blondie Ambition?

 **Jenny Kate:** *taps chin* Very interesting…

 **Jiff:** And, of course, boring ol' Jake was back. I love how most of our readers like Jake but don't think he's the one for Bella.

 **Jenny Kate:** Well, Bella officially friend-zoned him, so we'll see how that works out.

 **Jiff:** Sucks to be Jake.

 **Jenny Kate:** Yep, but you know who doesn't suck? Our awesome readers, that's who. We love you guys and your reviews for last chapter kicked ass. Thank you for the support and appreciation for this story!

 **Jiff:** Also on the not sucking list: our quick-as-lightening beta, GeekChic12, and our kick-ass pre-readers Rachel and Pamela! Notice you didn't make the list, Sarah?

 **Jenny Kate:** PSA: If you're reading this and your name is Sarah, please don't be offended by our Sarah references. We promise they're not about you.

We'll see y'all on Friday! Have a great week!


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

I lost sleep last night, staring at the open window and wondering if he was with someone… whom he was with. Part of me wanted to force myself to watch so that I don't get any delusions of our few moments spent together. He's my mother's therapist. I'm his patient's daughter. That's all. Everything else I feel is a figment of my imagination and only fueled by watching him. It's wrong. I know it is. And it feels even more wrong now that I know _who_ he is.

But I still want to watch.

Maybe it's masochistic of me.

Maybe it's not.

Maybe it's selfish.

Yawning and stretching, I pull myself out of bed and force myself to bypass the binoculars and head straight for the bathroom. If I hurry, I'll still have time to eat some breakfast before leaving for work.

**WaS**

If I thought my work daydreams were bad when I was merely watching Edward through a window, I was wrong. Now that I know what his touch feels like and what he smells like and how his voice seeps into the deepest parts of my soul, I can't get him out of my head even for a moment. Even when I'm speaking with other people or doing a task, he's still there in the back of my mind.

I work in the quiet of the stacks, doing the job no one else wants to do, but relishing it. It makes me look good, like I'm taking one for the team, but in reality, it's one of my favorite places to be. When I'm in here, I lose track of time and escape in my thoughts. The old books and I are dear friends. Sometimes, I'll take out a book that I know hasn't been touched in years, and I'll flip through the pages, smelling the aged paper. There's just something about being around words that have been around for a hundred years. It's like it gives life meaning and purpose.

When I was younger, I'd always volunteer in our school library. I know the librarian thought I was doing it to get away from my peers, but that was just a bonus. I did it because, even at a young age, books gave me the alternate reality I so desperately needed, but they also made me feel connected. That old saying that knowledge is power was true for me. The more I read and learned and expanded my mind, the less small and insignificant I felt. I guess books were my own personal therapy. Still are.

"Bella?" Alice's voice comes from the far end of the room.

"Back here."

"It's after five. Rose and I are ready to leave. We thought maybe we could all grab a drink or something."

"Okay, I'll be right down."

Fifteen minutes later, the three of us are walking down the steps of the library when a head of dark brown hair catches my attention. Jake is leaning against a post at the bottom of the steps and turns to award us with his bright white smile.

"Ladies," he says, kicking off the post and walking toward the three of us.

"Hey, Jake," Rose greets, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "What brings you here?"

He shrugs. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by to see if anyone was up for drinks or dinner." He's speaking as if he's referring to the three of us, but his eyes are trained on me, and I give him a warning glare. It seems as though my 'just friends' talk from last week has fallen on deaf ears.

"Just as friends, of course," he adds, forcing me to roll my eyes. The fact that he knew what I was thinking kind of pisses me off. And it kind of makes me smile because Jake is a really hard person to stay mad at.

"Actually, we were all thinking about grabbing a drink, so it's good that you stopped by," Alice chimes in. "Let me text Jasper and see if he and Emmett want to meet us."

"Sounds good."

We all start walking in the direction of the pub they stop at after work from time to time. I guess Emmett and Jasper are also en route, so it makes it one big group outing.

I can do group outings.

Once we're at the pub, I let them talk me into a few drinks. Jake insists on buying the first round, and when Emmett shows up, he says the second round is on him. He landed some big account today and wants to celebrate.

It's rude to turn down free booze.

With the liquor flowing lightly through my veins, I feel tingly, and my lips feel numb but in a good way. I allow myself to just be, trying not to think of Edward or my mother, just being with my friends. Jake plays nice. He doesn't try to hold my hand or kiss my cheek. He just sits across from me and continues to be his charming, polite self.

I like this Jake.

When everyone begins to say their goodbyes, it's only natural that Jake and I are left to pair up for a taxi. I tell him it's out of his way to ride with me, but he feels it's his chivalrist duty to see that I make it home safely. Emmett actually told him he had to, so I let it happen. Besides, he's stuck to his friend role this evening, so maybe this will work after all.

As the taxi approaches my corner, I instruct him to stop, and I take out my share of the fare. Jake pushes the money back at me and says it's on him. He also offers to get out with me and walk me to my door, but I tell him I'll be fine. He can watch me from the taxi.

I walk down the sidewalk and through the glass door, waving to the departing taxi behind me.

My phone buzzes in my bag, causing me to pause.

 _ **I had fun tonight, friend. ;)**_

 _Is he mocking me?_

I sigh and roll my eyes, tossing my phone back into my bag.

"Another date?" Mr. Chan asks when he sees me. I look up to see him waggling his thick dark eyebrows, and I have to laugh.

"No, Mr. Chan. Just a friend."

He mumbles something to himself and goes on about his business, but it's then that I feel eyes on me. I turn to see the face I've been missing all week.

"Mr… uh, Edward." My voice is half disbelief, half relief. I hope he doesn't detect the latter.

His lips turn up in a side smile. "How are you, Bella?"

"I'm good," I say, frozen in my spot, glancing back at the stairs that lead to my apartment and then back at him. "How are you?" I ask, forcing my feet a little closer to the small table he's sitting at by the door.

"Better now," he says, pointing down to his mostly empty plate.

"Best Chinese food in the city," I say, nodding my head.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to try it for some time now. Tonight, I was walking home from a late meeting, and it just called my name. Sometimes you just need some Moo Goo Gai Pan, ya know?"

I nod my head in agreement. "Absolutely."

He smiles, and I smile, and it makes my stomach flutter.

"Have you eaten?" he asks, and I don't know what to say to that. Is he offering for me to eat with him? Do I say yes?

"Uh," I begin, buying myself some time.

"You eat, Bella," Mr. Chan demands from behind me. Eavesdropping, nosy old man.

I smile and turn to look at Mr. Chan. "I'll have a soup."

"With extra wontons," he says with a satisfied grin on his face.

"Yeah, with extra wontons."

Edward motions to the seat across from him. "Please," he says, but he doesn't have to. I'd fight snakes and walk through fire to sit near him.

Mr. Chan walks the soup around the counter and places it in front of me. "On the house," he says, and I shake my head.

"I'll pay you Thursday."

His large hand pats my shoulder as he walks by, and I hear him begin to whistle a happy tune when he gets back behind the counter. Some nights, I hear that tune from my apartment. It's comforting, makes me smile.

When I feel Edward watching me, I look up. His blue eyes are intense, and it's hard for me to read him. I'm always left wondering what he's thinking.

"The soup's great too," I say, trying to break the layer of tension that's settled over the small table.

"I'll have to try that next time." He puts his napkin down on his plate and leans back in his chair. "So, Bella. Tell me about yourself."

 _Oh, God._ As much as I love being near him, that question makes me feel like running. I want to lie and make myself sound interesting and exotic, like one of his girls: Blondie Ambition or Red Velvet Cake. The truth about Bella Swan is that I'm nothing like those girls. If they're Rocky Road, I'm vanilla, and not even a fancy version, like _vanilla bean._

"Well, there's not much to tell, really. You already know where I'm from and that my mom's a rehab regular. I moved here recently to be closer to her while she's in treatment, and I work at the local library. I'm pretty boring, actually."

I poke at a wonton in my soup with my spoon to keep from looking at him. I don't want to see the look of pity on his face that I'm certain is there.

"I don't think you're boring, and I think you've shown tremendous strength by moving out here and supporting Renee. I know it's not easy hearing her side of things, but you seem to be handling it well."

Heat floods my face, and my eyes fly up to see Edward smiling at me. I could seriously die right here and be okay with it.

"I… I don't want to talk about Renee anymore," I tell him, nervously playing with the napkin by my now empty bowl of soup. I don't like the spotlight on me, and I'd really like to know about him. "What about you? How long have you been a therapist?"

He takes a long pull from his drink before answering, and I swear I could watch his mouth all damn day.

"Only a couple of years. I've only ever worked at the center, but it's all I've ever wanted to do—help people." The way he speaks about his work lets me know that he loves what he does. He's passionate about it. And he's absolutely fascinating. "Tell me about the library. What made you want to work there?"

"Besides needing a job?" I ask, feeling self-conscious about answering questions about myself.

He nods. "Yeah, besides that."

"I really love books. I always have. In high school, I'd always volunteer in the library. I worked at a small one back home before I moved here."

"And where's home?"

"Middletown."

"That's a couple hours from here, right?"

"Yeah."

"How do you like the city?"

I blow out a deep breath and look around the now empty restaurant. "It's big and kinda lonely sometimes. Is it weird to feel lonely in a city this big?" I don't know why I just told him that.

"No, not weird at all." The way he tilts his head and looks at me is equally unnerving and exhilarating, like he's looking straight into my soul.

"What about you?" I ask, taking the focus off of me and my stupid words. "Have you always lived here?"

"Uh, no. I grew up on Mason's Island out in Connecticut."

"Is it a real island?" I ask, and he laughs.

"Yeah, it's a real island, water on all sides." He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head as he takes another drink.

"I've never been to an island before." I still have no idea why I keep saying stupid shit, but I obviously can't help myself.

"You're not missing much. It's a small place where everyone knows your business, which is why I moved here. Even though the big city can feel lonely, at least you can walk down the street without feeling like everyone is talking about you."

I nod my head in agreement because I get that, and because I feel like he's giving me a little piece of himself, telling me something deeper than where he's from. "Yeah, that's one of the good parts."

Our conversation continues to flow, and I get lost in him and his words. So much so, I'm completely caught off guard when Mr. Chan tells us we have to leave because it's closing time.

Edward looks down at his watch and lets out a chuckle. "Wow, we've been talking for over an hour. I apologize for taking up so much of your time, Bella. I hope I didn't mess up your plans for the evening."

If he only knew about my usual evening plans.

"No, not at all. This was definitely better than what I had planned, which was reading in bed."

I'm not lying. As much as I enjoy watching him through my binoculars, the past hour and a half talking to Edward has been even better. I don't want the night to end; I want to keep learning about him and listening to him talk.

"Well, I guess I should get home. It was really nice running into you like this. Could I help you catch a cab or walk you to your building?" he asks, and I realize he probably thinks I'm just a regular here. He doesn't realize I live upstairs above the restaurant.

"I live here." I point over my shoulder to the small hallway that leads to the narrow stairs.

"Oh, I guess that explains how you know Mr. Chan so well."

"Yeah, he's my landlord, and he likes to make sure I eat enough. I don't want to take advantage of him, though. He's already been very generous to me."

"I'm glad to hear that," he says with sincerity. "Well, have a good night, Bella, and I'll see you at the next session." There's something there—something in his eyes and the way he looks at me—that makes my heart race and my breathing speed up.

"Okay, you too." I watch him walk out and turn in the direction of his apartment. "Good night, Mr. Chan," I call out over my shoulder as I take the stairs two at a time. I need to watch Edward tonight. Even though I just saw him and talked to him, I need more. Hopefully since he was with me so late, there won't be anyone joining him tonight. My heart wouldn't be able to take that.

When I get to my apartment, I quickly change into my pajamas and wash my face, knowing it'll take him a few extra minutes to get to his apartment. Kneeling in the window of my dark room, I pull the binoculars up and focus in across the way. His apartment is dark. There's not even a lamp on in the living room. I swallow down the lump in my throat as disappointment sits heavy in my chest.

What does this mean? Did he leave the restaurant and go to a bar or club to pick up a woman?

Why couldn't the woman have been me?

I'm sure there's some sort of line he'd be crossing if that were to happen—some kind of code of ethics—or the more logical explanation: I'm just not his type. I already know that, but having concrete evidence is crushing. I want him so bad it hurts. I could make him feel good. I know I could. I've been watching. I know exactly what he likes.

I sit with my knees pulled up to my chest and the binoculars at my side, staring out across the city that never sleeps, waiting for a light to come on. After what seems like hours but is probably only one, if that, a light comes on in the apartment, but Edward never comes to the window. I still wait and watch, but he must go straight to bed. I should feel happy about that—happy he's not with someone else tonight. And I am, but a small part of me misses the rush and the heat. I'm left once again wondering what he's thinking, hoping that somehow I can get him to let me in.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** Greetings from the great state of Louisiana!

 **Jiff** : Woo hoo! We're full-circle here in SE Louisiana, spending the weekend at the plantation that inspired our very first story!

 **Jenny Kate:** Still feeling a bit surreal, but I'm so stoked we're here! So, what did y'all think of the little run in with Edward at the Chinese restaurant?

 **Jiff:** I think they're pretty cute, myself. I do want to clear something up, though. Edward is a therapist, not a psychiatrist. That means he's a "mister", not a "doctor". ;-)

 **Jenny Kate:** We really appreciate all of the reviews and we apologize for not being on top of the the replies. Normally, we do a lot better, but we've got so much going on right now that it's hard to keep up! But know that we read and love each and every one of them. Also, if there are ever any questions and we feel like we can answer them, we'll address them here in the author's notes.

 **Jiff:** We also accept questions through FB…IF we can answer without giving something away. LOL

 **Jenny Kate:** Big thanks to our super fast beta, Geekchic12, and our ever faithful pre-readers, J Ray (Rachel) and Pamela!

Hope you enjoyed this one, Sarah!

Have a great weekend! We'll see y'all on Tuesday!

XOXO


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

The urge to pick up the binoculars and look across the way is too much tonight. Even though I'm going to see him in the family therapy session tomorrow, I want to watch him so bad. I want to see him through the window. I want to feel the fire flickering through my veins. This must be how a junkie feels. My mother talking about the struggle of wanting drugs and not being able to have them is on repeat in my mind. Edward is my drug, and I'm craving him something fierce.

I walk over and turn off the small lamp by my bed, bathing my room in darkness. If I'm going to do this, I need to be careful. After our chat in the restaurant the other night, I'm sure Edward realizes the close proximity of our apartments. I wonder if he's looked over here. Not that he could see anything. I'm only awarded the view I get thanks to the high-powered binoculars of Li Ju Chan. With the naked eye, the only thing he'd be able to see would be lights and maybe movement in the window, but no details. Nothing like what I'm seeing right now.

The gray sweatpants are slung low on his hips, the deep V on full display. My mouth waters, causing me to swallow hard. He braces himself against the glass with his hands, peering out at the city below him. My heart beats faster as he turns his gaze outward. I wonder if he senses someone is watching him. He stands there for a long time, and I don't budge—not even when my arms tire due to the weight of the binoculars. I can't tear my eyes away from him—his bare chest, long torso, lean muscles. I wish it were daylight or there was more light on in his apartment because I need to see his face more clearly. I want to know what he's feeling and feel it along with him. If it's sadness, I want to take it away. If it's hurt, I want to ease his pain. If it's need, I want to fulfill it.

After a while, he turns his back to the window and slides down to the floor.

And I continue to watch.

I'm not sure how I'd be feeling right now if a woman were to walk in to his apartment. A few weeks ago, excitement would've flooded my body, along with anticipation, but not now. I have to admit that I'm relieved he's alone. Even though I know there's not a snowball's chance in hell that I'll ever be one of those women, my traitorous heart goes a little rogue sometimes, feeling things I tell it not to.

When the sun breaks through my window, I crack an eye open and realize I'm still sitting on the hard window sill. My ass is numb, and I can't move my neck. After wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I pick the binoculars up from my lap and focus in on Edward's apartment. My breath catches in my throat when I see that he's still leaning against the glass. I wish I could get closer, go to him. Something about him sleeping there makes my heart ache. I sit up on my knees to see if I can get some feeling back in my ass, but I don't take my eyes off the window. I want to see him when he wakes up. Something about us both sleeping in the window makes me feel a weird connection. Call me crazy. Call me a stalker. Call me whatever you want, but I know what I feel. Sure, it's one-sided, and I'm probably setting myself up for a lot of heartache and disappointment, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. I want Edward Cullen, even if it's from afar.

He moves. His hand comes up and rubs his neck, and I know how he feels. When his back muscles stretch, I feel a twinge in the pit of my stomach. With much more grace than should be allowed, he stands to his feet and stretches his arms over his head, rubbing at his hair, waking himself up. Slowly, he turns to face the window, to face the new day, and I'm locked on his face. It should be a crime to look that beautiful when you first wake up. And then I wonder what it would be like to wake up to that face.

I've seriously gotta take care of business and relieve some of the pent up tension before I see him at the session today. If I don't, I might combust at the sight of him.

Although, that wouldn't be a bad way to go.

After I relieve the tension and then a bath, I dress quickly and then pour myself some cereal. I'm ready in record time, and I begin to pace around the small space. Instead of driving myself crazy, I decide to go ahead and leave. I can take a walk around the yard of the rehab, or maybe I'll grab a cup of coffee before I go to the session. Doesn't mean I won't go back after. That's kind of become my new habit. After our late night talk at Mr. Chan's last week, I'm hoping Edward will stick around and maybe talk a little more. Maybe he'll want to grab some lunch, or maybe we could have dinner later.

 _Stop it, Bella._

I'll settle for a coincidental coffee date.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I take a deep breath and let it out, loving the quiet of the morning.

"Hey, Bella."

Although the voice is familiar, it startles me. "Jake?" I ask, turning around to see him standing in front of my building.

"Good morning." He smiles, and it's big and bright. It makes me smile too, but deep down, I get a weird vibe. There's really no good reason for Jake to be in front of my building on a Saturday morning unless he's here to see me.

"What are you doing here?" I try to make my question sound casual, but I think it comes out a little harsher than I intended.

"I was just in the neighborhood," he says smoothly. "There's a great bagel place around the corner."

"You came all the way over here for bagels?"

He laughs, shoving his hands down in his pockets. "You just can't beat a good bagel."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Yes," I answer truthfully. "I had cereal earlier."

"Ah, cereal isn't a real breakfast. Come with me. My treat." He walks closer and nudges me with his shoulder. It's playful and friendly. I guess.

"I'm not really hungry," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. "But I have some time, so I guess I could get some coffee."

"That's my girl."

The way he says that makes my skin crawl a little. I'm not his girl. This thing with Jake is like a see-saw. One minute, I think he gets it and that we're on the same page. And then the next minute, I think he has a different agenda.

"It's this way," he says, pointing over his shoulder, in the opposite direction he was walking. I shake my head and try not to jump to weird conclusions. I think my overactive imagination gets the best of me sometimes.

"So, what brings you out this early on a Saturday?" he asks.

"My mom's therapy session," I tell him. It's kind of weird that as many times as we've been out together, he still hardly knows anything about me.

"Oh, right. She's in that rehab place down the street, right?"

"Yeah," I say, nodding my head.

"How long does she have to be there?"

"Well, she's on a six-month program, and she's been there for almost half of it. But

if she's not ready when the six months are up, she'll stay longer. It's kind of flexible."

"That's good. I guess."

"Yeah."

We walk the rest of the way to the bagel shop in silence. When we get there, Jake opens the door for me, placing his hand on my back. Small gestures like that are what make me think he's not on board with the friend status.

Jake orders and then tells me to order what I want. I order a black coffee. We find a table and sit down, and Jake starts asking more questions. It's weird. He normally does all of the talking, so I'm not used to this sudden interest in my personal life.

"What kind of drugs did your mom use?"

I look at him with a confused expression, not sure if I'm comfortable discussing this with him, but then I figure he doesn't know my mom and probably never will, so I answer vaguely. "You name it. She was an equal opportunity kind of user."

Jake nods, like he understands, but I know he doesn't. He can't. "When she does get out, what will she do then?"

"I'm not really sure. That's kind of what the family sessions are for—to figure all that stuff out."

"Do you think she'll live with you?"

"Probably not. My apartment is barely big enough for me," I tell him, laughing at the thought. My mom and I would probably kill each other if we lived together. "Maybe a halfway house or something like that, until she can get her shit together."

"Will you stay close?"

 _What is with the questions?_ "Probably," I answer with a hint of irritation in my voice. It's too early for this. I've barely had three sips of coffee.

"Sorry for the Spanish Inquisition. I just realized I don't know much about you. And we're friends, right?" he asks, tilting his head to the side and giving me a small smile. "Friends know things about each other."

"Yeah. Right." I don't know what to make of this, so I just go along with it. "It's fine. I just don't like talking about Renee."

"That's your mother's name?"

I roll my eyes and laugh. "Yes."

"Sorry. No more questions. I promise."

After he finishes his bagel and I have seconds on my coffee, we leave. Jake walks me back to the front of my building, and then he lingers, hesitating, before asking me if I'd like to have dinner with him tonight. As friends, of course.

"I don't really know what my plans are," I tell him truthfully. "Sometimes, after I visit my mom, I'm not really up for company."

"Yeah, okay," he says, looking down at the sidewalk as he toes the concrete. "Well, you have my number if you change your mind."

"Yeah, I'll text you."

"Okay, thanks for having breakfast with me."

"Thanks for the coffee."

"See ya later."

He walks toward the corner, turning back to look at me a couple of times. I think about going up to my apartment but realize I only have about forty-five minutes until my mom's session, so I take off walking, not turning back to see where Jake went. I don't want him to think I'm watching him. This morning has been weird enough as it is.

Hopefully, the family therapy session won't follow suit.

**WaS**

"We've been keeping things pretty heavy lately; let's focus on some positives, shall we?"

Edward's smile is kind and encouraging as he looks at Renee. I can tell he's hopeful Renee will participate, and I find myself wanting her to, not just for herself, but for him, too.

I'm not sure what it is exactly, but he looks different today. He looks well-rested, but I don't know how. My neck still hurts from sleeping in the damn window. I know his can't feel much better. I haven't been watching him through my binoculars as much as I used to, but when I do watch, like last night, he's alone or not there. Maybe he's slowing down his extracurricular activities, but if that's true, I want to know why. What's changed for him?

"Let's talk about being grateful. What are you grateful for, Renee? Tell me some blessings in your life."

This should be interesting.

I watch as my mother picks at her fingernails, not saying anything. It really pisses me off that she's not even trying. I mean, why is she here? She's wasting everyone's time, not to mention the money it costs for her to be here.

Edward doesn't give up, though. "How about I go first? I'm grateful for the beautiful weather we're having today. It makes walking to work a very pleasant experience. Are you ready to go now, Renee?"

She shrugs her shoulders and avoids looking at him.

"I'm grateful for ice cream," I blurt out. My hand covers my mouth, and I wish I could push those words back down my throat.

Edward's laughter eases some of my embarrassment, but I still can't believe I said that.

"What is your favorite kind of ice cream, Bella?"

He doesn't seem to notice the red hot blush I know is covering my face right now, and I'm grateful for that. "I love Ben and Jerry's ice cream. Any flavor, really." The association of the flavors with the women he's been with makes my mind flash through vivid pictures, like a flip book. I fight to keep a calm façade, while my insides are a mess.

He smiles before turning back to Renee. "See? It's as simple as that. Surely you've thought of something to be thankful for by now."

 _It's so not simple. You're not simple, Mr. Cullen. You're complex. You're Rocky Road or Late Night Snack._ I'm definitely going to have to stop for ice cream the second I get my next pay check.

"I'm thankful for electricity," Renee admits, pulling me from my thoughts. "Right before I came here, the electricity to my place was cut off because I hadn't paid the bill in a few months."

I'm proud of her for being so honest, and my heart truly hurts for her in this moment. Her response puts a damper on the mood set by Edward's and my silly answers, and I wish she had something a little more trivial to be thankful for.

"That's perfect, Renee. Good job," Edward praises. My mother sits up a little straighter before adding, "I'm also grateful for gum. It's my new vice now. I chew it as a distraction and to keep my mouth busy when I want to use."

"I'm glad to hear you have something like that to use. It's important to have things like your gum with you in times of weakness. Let's discuss some things you can use instead of gum."

The hour flies by, and before I know it, Renee is walking out of the room and heading down the hall. I grab my purse and stand, very aware of being alone with Edward now.

"I'm grateful for coffee shops that are close by. What about you, Bella?"

I turn and look at him, not sure how to take his words. Is he just making small talk, or could he actually be insinuating that he'd like for me to join him across the street?

Nodding my head, I reply, "Yes, I'm very grateful for them."

"Good. Care to join me?"

 _Holy shit._

We walk out of the building and across the street to the coffee shop in silence, but I have no complaints. Just being this close to him and knowing he wants this too has me buzzing like I've taken something from Renee's old stash. Maybe I should order decaf this time.

After buying our drinks, we sit at a table by the window. The view outside is nice, but nothing compares to the view across from me. His clothes are more casual than usual but still professional, and the sunlight coming through the window passes over his eyes, making them practically glow.

"So, you really love ice cream, huh?" He looks very amused when he asks me this, and I love that he's comfortable enough to tease me.

"I do. I'm also extremely grateful I'm not lactose intolerant."

Almost spitting his coffee out, he coughs out a "shit" before wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Sorry, I often speak without thinking," I explain to him. "It's a curse on most days, but today it's been a blessing."

"Why's that?"

"Because I was able to make you laugh."

Is this my attempt at flirting? I'm such an idiot. I've seen the women he prefers, and although they make him do a lot of things, laughing isn't one of them.

"Yes, you did. Thank you for that. My job is pretty stressful at times, and sometimes I have a hard time finding the humor in life."

"Well, you should try to laugh more often. It's good for you. Helps with digestion and all that. Plus, laughing looks really good on you."

I'm just gonna slide under the table now and never come out.

"Thank you, Bella. You're very sweet."

I look up at him and see the faintest blush on his cheeks. Interesting. A surge of power shoots through me at the mere idea that I, Vanilla Bella Swan, could have some sort of effect on him, Rocky Road-ish Edward Cullen.

"Would you like to meet up sometime?" he asks. "We could go get a slice of pizza or something." I merely nod my head because I'm afraid if I say something, it will sound too enthusiastic, too eager. "How about tomorrow?"

"I only do laundry on Sundays."

He smiles, watching me, and nods his head. "Well, after your laundry then."

"I'd like that."

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jiff:** Yes, Bella, make sure you get your laundry done first! LOL

 **Jenny Kate:** #Priorities ;)

 **Jiff:** Kudos to Bella for, at least, trying to flirt!

 **Jenny Kate:** And "getting pizza" sounds a lot like a date. So, at least we know there's more interaction coming up between the two of them outside of the therapy sessions!

 **Jiff:** It's a slooooow burn but, hopefully, you'll all think it's worth it!

 **Jenny La'Kay:** I almost forgot to use my new cajun name. #CommaToTheTop.

 **Jiff:** If you didn't know, JK, I mean, JL'K, and I just got home from spending the weekend together at the Oak Alley Plantation in Louisiana. Naturally, we spent a day in New Orleans, as well, so we are wiped out! We should probably cut these A/Ns a little short before delirium sets in. Thank you to the usual suspects: word master, GeekChic12 and our awesome cheerleaders, Rachel and Pamela! Next time, you three are joining us in Nola!

 **Jenny La'Kay:** See ya later, Sarah!


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

Edward and I agreed to meet at Ben's Pizzeria, a small walk-up pizza place near our apartments. Well, _my_ apartment. He still doesn't know that I know he lives two streets away from me.

As I'm leaving my apartment to meet him, I wonder if I'll see him along the way, but I don't. It's not until I'm a block away from the pizzeria that I spot his untamed hair. It's like a beacon of light, drawing me in.

"Hello, Bella," he says when he sees me walking up.

"Hello," I reply, my stomach doing that flip-flop thing it does when he says my name. The way he's smiling at me right now—his eyes squinted a little, crinkling at the corners—makes my knees weak.

I want to kiss his lips so bad.

"Hope you came hungry," he says. "These slices are bigger than your head."

I laugh and nod. "I'm pretty hungry."

"Right, with all your laundry, I bet you worked up quite the appetite." He winks. He motherfucking winks at me, and I'm so done for. As if I wasn't putty in his hands already, figuratively speaking, of course.

I try to fight back a smile but fail, the blush creeping up on my cheeks. He's teasing me, and I love it. "Yeah, it's hard work," I tell him, managing to sound much more composed than I feel on the inside.

We order two slices, and instead of sitting, Edward suggests that we walk a couple of blocks to a place he likes to go.

We walk in comfortable silence. Occasionally, Edward's arm brushes mine, and I close my eyes, relishing the unintentional touch. I shake my head at myself, thinking that if a brush of his arm does that to me, what would an _intentional_ touch by him do to me? I would come unraveled, that's what.

"Mind if we sit here?" Edward asks, pointing to a bench that's nestled between two shade trees.

"Sure." I welcome the opportunity to sit down and clear my head. I'm hoping I can make it through this date, or whatever you want to call it, without making a complete fool of myself.

I watch as he folds his slice in two and takes a large bite. A bit of sauce smears onto the side of his mouth, and I laugh. "Got a little something…" I let my words trail off as I point to his cheek, wanting to lick it off, but then he does it for me, and my mouth goes dry. Turning my head, I bite down on my lip and close my eyes, forcing myself to get a grip and not moan my approval.

 _Just eat the damn pizza, Bella. This isn't Porn in the Park._

I finally take a bite of my own slice... and then I actually do moan. I can't help it because it's quite possibly the best damn pizza I've ever eaten.

"That good, huh?" Edward asks, his voice low and husky.

Looking up at him, I notice his half-eaten slice is hanging mid-air, and his eyes are focused on me. My cheeks heat up again before I nod my head. "Yeah, it's _really_ good."

Edward clears his throat and then begins eating again, and I do the same, both of us watching people instead of each other. It's safer that way, for me at least.

After we finish our pizza, we sit and talk about everything from mundane topics, like the weather, to more personal things, like whether or not we have siblings. Edward is an only child, just like me. But that's as far as we go into family talk. The second we come close to mentioning mothers, Edward tenses up a little. I'm not stupid. I know it's probably not completely ethical for us to hang out. But Edward hasn't brought it up, so I haven't either. If he's okay with it, so am I. More than okay, actually.

Since Edward hasn't told me where he lives, I feel like my secret is still safe. But the more we talk and hang out, the more paranoid I feel. Maybe it's guilt. I don't know, but when it tries to surface, I tamp it down because I don't want anything messing up whatever this is.

Edward eventually walks me back to my building. He's sweet. And gentle. As we walk down the sidewalk, he shields me from people who get too close. When we're standing at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, I feel his hand rest on the small of my back, but then it's gone.

"I had a nice time today," he says when we're standing in front of the restaurant. "Thank you for meeting me for my Sunday pizza."

 _His_ Sunday pizza. He shouldn't have said that. Now, I'll want to follow him to the pizza place every Sunday.

"It was delicious. Thank you for inviting me." I smile and then begin to fidget with strap of my bag. I don't know what to do now. I mean, I know what I want to do, but I'd never be so forward. I think now is when I'm supposed to say "see ya later" and head into my building, but I don't want to. I'm not ready to be away from him for an entire week.

"Have a great week, Bella."

"You too," I say, lingering on the sidewalk, buying myself a few more seconds.

"I'll see you Saturday."

I nod and open the door but look back at him over my shoulder. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and smiles at me. I finally walk through the door but peek at him one more time through the glass, and he's still standing in the same spot. I want to run back out there and attach myself to him, but I try to play it cool and continue up the steps to my apartment. When I get there, I'm anything but cool. I throw myself on my bed like a sixteen-year-old love-sick girl and spend the rest of the afternoon daydreaming about Edward.

Later that night, I watch him through the binoculars. He's sorting through some CDs. I didn't even know people still bought those. He spends hours sitting in the middle of his living room floor, taking the inserts out and reading through the lyrics. I wonder why… I wonder what he's thinking about, whom he's thinking about. I wonder, and I watch. And for the first time, I wish he was watching back.

**WaS**

The past week has been long. The fact it's finally Saturday again and I'm going to see Edward in person after six long days puts a little extra bounce in my step.

I know I said I wouldn't watch him anymore from the window, but I still do. Not every night, but close. He hasn't been with a woman in over two weeks, and I don't know what to make of that. Is it because of me? Or is it something else entirely? How can he go from having sex almost every night to having none? I have to force myself to not blurt out the truth to him every time we're together. I want so badly to know the reasons behind what he does, or used to do. And still, more than anything, I want to experience it first-hand.

My phone buzzes from my nightstand as I'm getting ready to leave.

 _ **I miss you. Can I see you today?**_

Ugh. Jake _._

I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated breath. He is not giving up, and it's starting to piss me off. He texted me on Tuesday and wanted to know if he could buy me dinner, to which I replied no. Then on Wednesday, he asked if I wanted to have drinks after work, to which I also replied no. I made up a lame excuse of having to work overtime and that I was tired from not being able to sleep very well, which wasn't a lie. Edward had been at his window the night before, and although he wasn't with a woman, he was wearing those fucking gray sweatpants, and I couldn't look away. On Thursday, when I was leaving the library late after working some overtime, I thought I saw Jake standing out by the lamp post, but when I looked up again, he was gone. The weirdest part was that the entire walk home, I felt like someone was watching me. I almost texted him to see if he'd reply, but I didn't want to give him any sort of false hope.

Now, I really don't know what to say to him. Most of the time, he's a good friend, but every once in awhile, like last Saturday, he completely oversteps his boundaries.

 **I have my mom's therapy session today.**

I know that's not really an answer, but I've told him before that I don't usually feel up to going out afterwards. Surely he's not that dense and can read between the lines.

 _ **I could stop by after the session or maybe meet you there, and we could get something to eat or have some coffee. There's a place right across the street.**_

Or maybe he _is_ that dense. And why does it creep me out that he knows about the coffee shop across the street from the rehab place?

 **Not today. Maybe sometime next week.**

I really don't know what the right response is, but that seems as good as any. Hopefully, it'll get him to drop it for today, and I'll be able to come up with a new excuse the next time he calls or texts.

I wait for a few minutes, and when he doesn't reply, I toss my phone into my bag and head out the door.

This time, when I walk in, I don't pay any attention to the lady at the desk. I sign in and head straight to the room and let myself in. I'm only in the room by myself for maybe a minute before Edward and my mom walk in.

The smile on his face as he greets me has my body tingling from my head to my toes, but when I turn and see Renee, the tingles go away, and my stomach fills with lead.

Someone is having a bad day. Again.

I can see it in the slump of her shoulders and the scowl on her face. She's biting at her non-existent fingers nails, a trait she somehow passed on to me when something is bothering us.

Is it normal for her to be angry all the time? In earlier sessions, she didn't seem this grumpy, so I'm confused as to why she seems to be getting worse. Maybe I could ask Edward about it later… if it doesn't violate his ethics, of course.

Renee sits down, opens three pieces of gum and shoves them into her mouth. I wouldn't have a problem with it, but the smacking sounds she's making as she chews drives me up the wall. It feels intentional, like she's doing it to annoy me.

When I look at Edward, he licks his bottom lip and then bites down as he reads over what's written on the papers in front of him. I'm reminded of our date last week—of the way he licked the pizza sauce that was smeared just outside his mouth, and it has me blushing now almost as much as it did then. The sound of him clearing his throat brings me back to the present, and I have to look away before my face really heats up.

"Renee, your other counselor, Ms. Marcus, mentioned to me that you've been increasingly more difficult to work with. She said you aren't participating in your group sessions, and you're becoming more and more withdrawn. Care to explain why?"

The way Edward looks at my mom shows that he really does care. He's not fussing at her or admonishing her. He's trying to get to the bottom of Renee's issues so she can get healthy. I don't know if it's just his training or what, but he's really good at his job.

Renee sighs and looks away before answering. "I just don't see the point."

"The point of what?" he asks as he leans forward, completely engaged.

"The point of everything… rehab, being here, the classes, talking. Why do we have to talk so fucking much?"

Edward gives her an understanding smile and sits back in his chair. "In order to learn and move forward, we need to both talk _and_ listen. It's a give and take between you and the staff here. When you share about your experiences and what has led you to your addictions, the other counselors and I can then share the best ways for you to recover in a safe manner. It's our hope to empower you with the knowledge and skills to identify your triggers and work through them without turning back to drugs or alcohol. All of that involves talking, I'm afraid."

"Well, sometimes I don't have anything to say! Why is that such a problem?"

"It's not a problem when it happens once or twice, but you've been closed off the entire time you've been here. How can we help you if you don't tell us how you're feeling?" Edward gives my mother a minute, but she remains stoic, with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes turned to the blank wall beside her. "Why are you here, Renee?" Edward asks.

"I told you why I'm here," she screams—her voice breaking. The sound of Renee's voice yelling sends me back to my childhood, and I instinctively cringe in my chair. "I told you it's _her_ fault," she sneers as she points to me. Then she's out of her seat, and her arms are flailing like a crazy person. "I didn't want to be a mom," she sobs, sounding as though she's on the verge of a breakdown, or maybe a breakthrough. "But I didn't get a choice! When I didn't bond with her as a baby, people told me my depression was normal and would go away, but it didn't! The guilt from that is something I'd never wish on anyone, and the only way I could make it go away was to use."

My chest feels like a vise is squeezing the life from me, and I can barely see through my watery eyes, but I stand and face her—my mother. "You're so full of shit," I tell her. "No one forced you to be a mom. You could've given me up for adoption! Being raised by a bunch of knuckle-breaking nuns would've been better than the life I lived!" I yell, allowing myself to get out a fraction of the anger I've been feeling inside for so long now. "Grow up and take responsibility for your actions for once!"

I know running isn't the answer, but I have no desire to sit here and listen to her put this on me. This woe-is-me act is something with which I'm very familiar. Somehow, my mother can always make herself out to be the martyr. Not today. Without looking at Edward, I grab my purse and walk out of the room. When the door closes, all I hear behind me is silence, so I keep walking—down the hall and out the doors.

I have no idea if he'll join me at the coffee shop, but I go there anyway. I order a large latte and sit in the back of the room. Twenty minutes pass before I hear the chime on the door, but I don't let out a sigh of relief until I see him standing by my table.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks, and I can tell by the tone of his voice he's being careful with me, but all I really want is to jump into his arms and beg for him to make me feel something other than pain and rejection.

"Of course not." I sniffle and wipe my hands across my wet cheeks. "I wasn't sure if you'd be here after my outburst," I admit. "Are you mad at me?"

"For speaking your feelings?" he asks as he slides into the seat across from me. "For standing up to the woman who has blamed you for everything bad in her life?" Edward pauses, shaking his head as he looks away. "Bella, I'm not mad. I'm proud."

Tears flood my eyes again, but I manage to give him a small smile. "Thank you," I whisper. I take a drink of my coffee and try to clear my emotions before speaking—asking the question I wish I didn't want the answer to. "Is she okay?"

He picks at a nick in the table, seemingly avoiding my question, and just when I think he's not going to answer, he looks back up at me. "Yeah, she's okay. She tried to play the victim after you left, but when I told her I agreed with you, that she had to own up to her actions, she started changing her tune."

I have no idea what to say. He told Renee that he agreed with me? He took my side? I can't explain what I'm feeling in this moment. To finally feel validated by someone other than Rose or Alice... It's relief and comfort and hope. And somehow I feel less alone.

"Bella, I know what you're going through. Not just as a therapist but as a person… a son."

I look up at him and see him warring with himself, probably trying to decide how much of himself he wants to share. I know that feeling. Without giving it permission, my hand reaches across the table and covers his.

"My dad was an alcoholic, and he was terrible to my mother. He's the reason I wanted to be a therapist at a rehab facility. If I can help someone turn away from drugs or alcohol and in turn, salvage their relationship with their family, then what I went through just might be worth it."

There's something new in his eyes now. Maybe it's vulnerability or a deeper connection between us. I'm not sure, but my heart breaks a little for the younger Edward. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. "Do you mind if I ask what happened to your mother? Did your father get help?"

His jaw clenches like I've seen it do before in the sessions with Renee, and his hand tenses under mine. "She left. She packed up her things in the middle of the night, kissed me on the forehead while I was in bed, and walked out the front door. I've never seen or heard from her since."

And now, all I want to do is wrap my arms around him and make him feel anything but pain and rejection.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** Now that we have a little glimpse into Edward's past, how are we feeling about that?

 **Jiff:** I know I'm feeling sad about what he shared and I'm also feeling some major frustration with Ms. Renee.

 **Jenny Kate:** That little blowup was bound to happen sooner or later. She's a piece of work. *shakes head*

 **Jiff:** Mmm hmmm. What about Creepy McCreeperton? I LOVE how almost all of the reviews from the last chapter called Jake out for being a stalker!

 **Jenny Kate:** He's another piece of work. The reviews calling Jake "Jerkob" or just calling him out on his shit had me cracking up. I love when we're all on the same page.

 **Jiff:** Yes! Thank you all so much for the love and encouragement for this story! I know you still have a lot of questions but I promise, they'll be answered eventually.

 **Jenny Kate:** We'd like to thank our awesome team: Geekchic12 for making our words sparkle, and Rachel and Pamela for giving us great feedback and insightful suggestions. We couldn't do this without y'all!

 **Jiff:** Cee, I mean, see U Next Tuesday, Sarah!


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

"You've seemed down in the dumps the last few days," Alice says, sitting beside me at the desk. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"Just had a crazy family session on Saturday. That's it, really. Same shit, different day." I sigh, pushing away from the desk and grabbing a stack of books that need to be checked back in. "I don't know why I still let her get to me after all these years."

"Because you care," Alice says, putting her arm around my shoulder. "And that's okay, because that's who you are, Bella." She forces me to put down the stack of books and look at her. "You've always cared. Even when things were at rock bottom, you still cared. Don't feel bad about that. But it might be time to tell yourself you've done enough… that it's okay to let go."

"Yeah," I say, nodding and swallowing down the emotions threatening to spill over. Ever since my blow up at Renee and my talk with Edward at the coffee shop, my emotions have been raw. I feel like my nerves are shot. A part of me thinks I should skip a week of therapy and let the dust settle, but the other part wants to see Edward… and my mom, if I'm being completely honest. "I think that's part of why I've felt so shitty. After the session last week and seeing how unresponsive Renee was, it made me realize that this might not work. She may never be healthy or sober. And even though she's always been a junkie, I've always had hope she'd be something different someday… and now that hope is dying."

Alice pulls me into a tight embrace and holds me there as a few tears escape. When a couple walks into the library, she pulls back, and we go back to pretending we're working. "You know what you need?" she asks quietly.

"No," I say, shaking my head, kind of scared of what her solution to my problems might be. Alice is known to be a fixer, but her methods are often unorthodox.

"A girls' night out."

"No strip clubs," I tell her, scanning a book and putting it on the stack.

"Fine. But drinks. Lots of them."

"Fine."

"And I'm buying, so you can't be a party pooper and claim that you don't have money or whatever. You're staying out until I say you can go home."

"Fine."

At times like these, it's easier to agree with Alice. Besides, I could use some girl time, anything to take my mind off of my current reality… and my fantasy. One, I don't want and would gladly give away, and the other, I can't have and would do anything to get.

My life is a charmed one, for sure.

**WaS**

At a bar with Rose and Alice a few hours later, I'm already two drinks in and beginning to feel the welcomed numbness, helping me forget about everything that's wrong in my life right now. Rose's phone rings, and she presses it up to her ear, covering the mouthpiece and speaking loudly.

"Hey, baby!" she coos into the phone.

Alice and I groan in unison. Rose and Emmett are disgustingly sweet to one another when they're sober, but when they're drunk, they're vomit-inducing.

Rose continues to speak in a tipsy slur to Emmett over the phone while Alice orders us all another round of drinks.

"Do we want boys?" Rose asks loudly over the crowded bar, covering the mouthpiece of the phone.

Alice looks at me, and my expression must say it all. "No boys," Alice commands just as the waitress shows back up with a tray of fruity drinks.

Rose hangs up after professing her love and everything she's going to do to Emmett when she gets home and then levels me with a stare. "Okay, what's up with you and banker boy?"

"He's on my last nerve. That's what," I say, the liquor helping me speak the truth. "He will not take no for an answer."

"What do you mean?" Alice asks, leaning forward to hear better.

"I told him I just want to be friends, but he keeps… I don't know, coming around." I shrug my shoulders. "Like last Saturday, he showed up at my building and claimed he was in the neighborhood." I stop and roll my eyes while I take another long pull from my glass. "We all know he wasn't in my neighborhood."

"He likes you," Rose says, sitting her half-empty glass on the table. "What's so bad about that? He's cute. You should at least get an orgasm out of him before you kick him to the curb."

I laugh and shake my head. "I don't like him like that."

"At all?" Rose asks with a confused expression.

"No." I chug some more of my drink, needing to keep my buzz going if I'm going to have this kind of conversation.

"Are you seeing someone else?" she asks, obviously confused as to why I wouldn't be into dating Jake.

I choke a little on my drink before answering.

"No." I didn't convince myself with that answer, so I doubt I convinced her. Rose's bullshit detector is strong.

"You _are_ seeing someone," Rose says, slapping the table.

"Who is he?" Alice asks almost simultaneously, practically climbing onto the table to get closer.

"I'm not seeing anybody. I mean, I've had coffee with somebody, but…" I trail off as they both squeal in delight. Rolling my eyes, I try to hide my smile behind my glass because I'm dying to tell them about Edward. I just don't know what to say… how much of the truth to tell.

"Spill," Rose demands as she motions for our waitress to come back to our table, ordering some shots.

"He's just a guy that I…" I struggle with how to explain him—who he is and how we met. "I met him at the rehab facility." I decide to go with that because it seems like the most logical, sane thing to say. A few more drinks, and I might be telling them the whole sordid story, but for now, we'll stick with this version.

"Is he a patient?" Alice asks, cocking her head. I can see her getting ready to go into protective mom mode.

"No, he works there."

"A doctor?" Rose asks.

"A therapist." Do I tell them he's my mom's therapist? That suddenly sounds wrong. I haven't let myself think about it very much, but now, getting ready to tell them, it sounds like a conflict of interest. Maybe I should make up something…

"Renee's therapist?" Alice eyes me.

"Yeah."

"You naughty girl," Rose chides teasingly. "Banging your mom's therapist."

"I'm not banging him." My cheeks flush. The mere mention of Edward banging anyone fills my mind with a million images, and all of them make me feel hot and bothered.

"Tell us about him," Rose says as the waitress shows up with our round of shots. "But first…" She sets one of the shot glasses down in front of me. "Shots." She sets another down in front of Alice. "Then, we want all the dirty details."

On Rose's count, we toss them back, and I know I'm going to regret this tomorrow.

**WaS**

"Are you sure you're going to be okay going home by yourself?" Emmett asks me as he guides a very drunk Rosalie into the waiting cab.

I slide into my own cab and nod my head, giggling. "I'll be fine. He'll drop me off right in front of my door. Wontchoo, Mr. Cab Driver?" I ask, falling into the seat and pulling my legs in. They feel heavy. My whole body feels heavy.

Emmett leans into the window and directs the cab driver on where to take me, but I could've done that myself. I'm not _that_ drunk. Tipsy, yes. But I can hold my own.

"Call me if you need anything," Emmett instructs before tapping the side of the car, signaling for the driver to go.

The car takes off, and the passing lights and buildings make me feel a little dizzy. The fact we make abrupt stops doesn't help, but that's New York City. Even at this time of night, there are still idiots on the road, but there are always idiots on the road in the city. I would never drive here.

Public transportation all the way.

I fist-bump the air.

Okay, maybe I _am_ that drunk.

Pressing my cheek against the cool glass, I welcome the relief to my flushed face. Drinking makes me hot. Edward makes me hot. I wonder what he's doing. I wonder if he invited someone to his apartment… to his window. The thought makes me feel sick to my stomach. I almost call for the driver to stop, but then I look up and see we're almost to my building.

And then I see him.

Not the him I want to see. The other him.

And then I realize what time it is and that he has no business being in front of my building.

And then I realize that Mr. Chan is gone for the night.

"Keep driving," I yell to the cabbie.

"I was instructed to drop you here, Miss, and to watch you into your building before leaving."

"I'll pay you double to keep driving." My heart speeds up as the cab slows down. "Please," I beg.

I don't know where this sudden rush of fear has come from, but I do know I don't want to face Jake tonight.

"Where to?" the guy asks.

"Two blocks up. You can let me out there."

I want to get away from Jake. He can't wait there forever… right? I pull out my phone, and I don't have any missed calls or texts. So it's not like he's here to check on me when I didn't reply. I don't think Emmett would've sent him. Would he? My phone buzzes, and a text from Rose pops up on my screen.

"Here ya go," the driver says as he pulls up to the curb.

"Thanks," I tell him, handing him extra money through the window.

When I step out onto the sidewalk, I realize exactly where I am. His tall building looms over me. I look to the right and know there's nothing down there that's open this late. I guess I could go to the church I followed Edward to, but that feels too creepy. I look to my left and think about walking to the corner to see if Jake is still standing there, but that feels unsafe. I don't want him to see me. What if he ran after me? I'm not very fast.

Would Jake hurt me?

I've never felt like he would, but something about him waiting for me tonight makes my skin crawl.

What if Edward comes home and I'm standing in front of his building? What would I say then? _Oh, hey… What a coincidence?_

So not a fucking coincidence.

I groan loudly and plop myself down on the steps leading up to Edward's building. Pulling my phone out, I check the text from Rose.

 _ **Wanted to make sure you made it home safely.**_

I think about asking her about Jake but then feel stupid. So, I lie.

 **Yes, thanks. I had fun tonight.**

Looking down toward the corner, I see someone walking this way, and my breath catches in my throat. Standing up, I press myself into the side of the building, hoping I can blend in with the brick. I look one more time, just to make sure I'm not crazy or hallucinating, but my fears are confirmed.

Jake is now walking down the sidewalk, coming toward me. Even though he's still a block down, I know it's him, but I don't know where to go or what to do. If I start walking, he'll probably see me. And I still have no clue where I'd go.

An older man walks up the steps and completely ignores the fact that I'm pressed against the building like a lunatic. He enters his code for the building and walks in. Just before the door latches shut, I stick my foot in the crack and wait for a second, taking quick panting breaths and freaking out about what I'm getting ready to do.

The second I'm inside the building, I realize I've passed a threshold. There's no going back. I press the button for the elevator as I keep a watch on the door leading back outside. I expect Jake to see me in here and bang on the door or something, but fortunately, the elevator door opens before that can happen. Quickly, I run into the elevator and press the button for the door to close.

After a few deep breaths, I press the button for the fourth floor.

What the hell am I doing?

I almost start crying from the insane turn this night has taken, but I will myself to keep it together. This is going to be bad enough without me blubbering like an idiot.

When I step out into the hall, I lean against the wall and inhale.

I should walk out of here the same way I walked in. I'm sure Jake is gone by now.

Or he could be waiting for me downstairs.

Oh, God.

When I hear a door opening at the end of the hall, I try to act normal, like I know where I'm going. I visualize the building from my apartment and think about the location of the window I've watched so many times. I know that it has to be the third or fourth door to my left, but which one? How embarrassing would it be to pick the wrong door?

I walk toward the end of the hall and hesitate in front of the fourth door. When I hear the people walking down the hall get into the elevator behind me, I press my ear to the door, but I can't hear anything or anyone.

What will I do if I find Edward's apartment and he's not alone? Do I have a right to be hurt? Mad? I know I would be. It would crush me. I'm not sure how Edward feels about me, but I'm slowly going from lusting over him to being completely in… like with him. I really really like him.

I should leave. This is bad.

Soft music plays through the next door down, and I wonder if, by chance, that could be Edward's. I never see him watching television. I'm not even sure if he has one, but who's to say he doesn't listen to music? I wouldn't know. I've only been watching.

" _Strumming my pain with his fingers…"_ Lauryn Hill's voice filters through the door. I know the Fugees. My old next door neighbor was obsessed with '90s hip hop.

My knuckles brush against the cool metal door, and then I tap once. If he doesn't answer, I'll walk away and pretend like I was never here.

But then the door opens.

"Bella?" Edward's voice is a mixture of confusion and concern. "What are you doing here?"

He's standing there in those damn gray sweat pants. My mouth drops open, and words fail me.

"Bella?" Edward asks again, his hand reaching out to me but stopping before he touches me.

"I was going home, but then there was this guy..." I begin but trail off, because how do I tell him about Jake? This is going to sound crazy. Who am I kidding? I _am_ crazy. What the fuck am I doing here? I turn away from him and stare down the hall at the elevator. "Anyway, I just ended up here without even thinking, really… I… I should go."

"How did you know where I live?" he asks.

And there it is.

I swallow thickly, wishing beyond anything I'd just gone home. I could be sitting in my window, watching him now instead of getting ready to tell him what I know will be a game changer… a deal breaker. Facing Jake would've been better than this. "I watch you."

"You watch me? What do you mean?" he asks, opening the door wider, one palm against the wall and the other against the door, his perfect body filling the space.

"From my window," I whisper, not wanting to tell him, not wanting this to end, and afraid it will after this truth is told. "I've been watching you for a while, even before I knew you. I saw you in your window… with the women." I look past him, staring longingly at the window behind him. It's so weird seeing it from this side. It's so weird feeling like I know so much about him and this apartment. My fantasy and my reality are colliding, and I don't know what the hell is going to happen.

"What do you mean?" he asks, his beautiful features scrunched together in confusion.

I wring my fingers nervously and fight the urge to run away. "I have some… binoculars. They were in my apartment when I moved in," I admit. "I can see inside your apartment when I use them," I tell him, pointing to the window. This can't be a complete surprise. He must know people are capable of watching the things he does in that window.

The moment he realizes exactly what I'm talking about is obvious. His expression changes from confusion to surprise. Indecision is all over his face as he fights his own internal war, and I wonder what's getting ready to win out.

Edward takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and his palms squeeze into fists. His nostrils flare before he speaks quietly. "You need to leave."

"What?" I ask, hoping I didn't hear him correctly.

"Go, Bella. You need to go. _Now_. This isn't good. We shouldn't be doing… whatever this is." He hesitates, then squeezes his eyes shut again, looking as if he's in pain. "I'm sorry, but you have to leave."

My shoulders slump, and my breath leaves me because I see the finality on his face. This is over. Whatever _this_ is, it's no more. I just ruined it. Actually, it was ruined before it ever started. I ruined it the day I watched. I ruined it when I didn't tell him the moment I met him that I knew him. I knew him in a way only the women he fucked against his window knew him. I should've told him sooner.

I turn to walk back to the elevator and hear the door shut forcefully behind me. Tears fill my eyes as I step inside, and I let the doors close before sliding down the wall and onto the floor. I sit there for a few minutes before I crawl over to the panel and push the button for the first floor.

Pulling myself up, I step off the elevator and back out onto the street, needing the solace of my small apartment. With my head tucked down and my bag hugged tightly to my body, I walk the two short blocks, not even pausing for the crosswalks. I'd let a car take me out at this point, anything to end this burning in my chest… the regret, the embarrassment, the self-loathing.

"Where have you been?" a voice out of the darkness says harshly, causing me to flinch and stiffen.

My head snaps up as Jake pushes off the side of the building.

"What are you doing here?" It's not lost on me that I'm now asking Jake the same question Edward asked me only minutes ago.

"I've been waiting."

"Why?" I ask, my hackles rising and my voice following suit. "Why, Jake?"

"Emmett said you were out with the girls, drinking and having a good time, and I thought—"

"You thought what?" I scream, not caring if all the crack dealers in the vicinity hear me. "You thought you'd come over here and see if you could get lucky?" I push around him and head for the door to my building, digging in my bag for my key and kicking myself for letting my guard down and not being prepared.

My dad didn't raise a weakling. He taught me how to take care of myself. The fear I felt earlier quickly turns to rage. Maybe it's the fact that I feel like my life is royally fucked, but I have a sudden need to punch something or kick something.

Jake's hand on my arm is my last straw for the night. I spin around, and my knee makes contact with his dick.

"You bitch!" He groans and falls to his knees, cupping what I'm sure are his less than average sized balls.

"Don't call me again. Don't text me again. Don't ask about me," I demand and then push the key into the lock and walk inside, making sure it closes behind me. I don't turn around. He can rot on the sidewalk for all I care. Taking the steps two at a time, I make my way to my apartment.

When I'm inside, I finally let all of the tears fall. I don't turn a light on. I don't go to the window. I don't even change out of my clothes. I don't ask why me, because I know I brought this all on myself. I also don't try to figure a way out, because quite frankly, I'm exhausted.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jiff:** Sooooooo… how's everyone doing? *nervous smile*

 **Jenny Kate:** The shit kinda hit the fan, huh? *passes out ponchos*

 **Jiff:** At least, Jake got kneed in the balls, right? Doesn't that make y'all happy?

 **Jenny Kate:** Made me feel good. I wonder if he'll respond better to physical pain?

 **Jiff:** Who knows? Well, I guess _we_ do but…so how about Bella's word vomit? How are we feeling about that?

 **Jenny Kate:** We knew it wasn't going to be pretty when the truth was finally out, but I'm not sure everyone saw it happening quite like that.

 **Jiff:** Just remember to trust us, okay. You may have your doubts from time to time but we got this, I promise.

 **Jenny Kate:** And whatever you do, do NOT forget to stop by our Facebook group and check out Lynette's Reaction Post! I think she's planning on a video post again. You don't want to miss it!

 **Jiff:** Seriously! Gigantic hugs and thanks to Team JiffyKate, not only for being amazing but for working hard for us even when we slack and get chapters out late! Geeky, Rachel, and Pamela, we love you ladies so much! And, thanks to all of you who are reading our story, we appreciate it more than you know! MWAH!


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

 **EPOV**

The alarm on my phone goes off for the third time this morning, and I stretch with a groan. I've got to get my ass in gear. I usually have no problem getting up and ready for work, even on Saturdays, but not today. No, this Saturday, I'd much rather call in sick and avoid work altogether, but I know I can't do that. I have too many people depending on me, and to be honest, I depend on them just as much.

I love my job. I'm damn good at it, too. I shouldn't let _her_ or anyone else make me feel like I'm not good at what I do. Besides, I seriously doubt she'll even show up today. I wouldn't if I were her.

Images and thoughts of Bella flash through my mind, and I try to force them out, but they won't stop. Her sweet smile and caramel-colored eyes are what drew me in first, and the way they seemed to grow wider every time she looked at me kept me going back for more. Before the other night, she looked at me like I hung the moon. Now, I know she only wanted to be with the man behind the window.

That stupid fucking window.

I brought it all on myself. I know that. Here in New York City, there are two types of people: those who close the curtains and those who don't. Those who leave their windows uncovered know they're most likely going to be watched by someone somewhere. I'm not stupid or naïve; I know I put on a good show with the women I bring home. None of them have had reservations about fucking the way we do, so up until now, I've never cared if anyone watched. But knowing that Bella has watched is different.

She's too good, too precious to be treated that way… put up on display and used for a moment's pleasure. She should be worshipped, cherished, made love to, but I'm not the one who can do that for her.

The crazy thing is, she acted like she wanted what I did with the other women. How could she want that? I know she was raised by a shit of a mother, but surely she knows how a man is supposed to treat a lady.

That's not to say I treat my women poorly. Quite the opposite, in fact. The women I choose from the agency are well-compensated. Plus, they're guaranteed a hell of an orgasm, if not two. When I occasionally decide to bring someone outside of the escort service home, like Jane from work, I make sure they understand we're going to my living room to fuck and fuck hard. That's it. No small talk, no bedroom, and no cuddling.

As attracted as I am to Bella, I could never do that to her.

After my shower, I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep, and my usual morning stubble is thicker because it's two days' worth. I figure another day won't hurt and decide to skip shaving today as well.

I have no plans to visit the coffee shop after my session with Renee, so I decide to go now while on my way to work. Stepping into my favorite shop only reminds me of Bella now, but I'm hopeful that will change over time. While waiting for my order to be filled, I look over at our table. I'm hit with incredible sadness, knowing it won't be ours any longer. That sadness turns back into anger as I realize the entire time we were talking, she knew some of the most personal and private things about me but didn't tell me.

I really enjoyed our conversations and getting to know her better. It wasn't ever my intention to counsel her like I do at the facility, but there's no denying how Bella has changed over the last few weeks. The way she told Renee off last week was brilliant and something she'd never been able to do before. I wasn't lying when I said I was proud of her. I'm still proud of her for that.

Coffee now in hand, I cross the street to the facility and head straight to my office to prepare for Renee's session. Bella's mother has proven to be quite the pain in the ass during her recovery, and sometimes I wonder if she'd be better off with a different therapist. I'm going to have to get creative if I want her to start taking this seriously. She only has a few weeks left before she can go to a halfway home, and I worry she'll start using as soon as she's out of here. She has to want this, and I'm not sure she does.

Another good reason for Bella and me to part ways is my professional ethics. It's wrong to see a relative of a patient outside of the facility, and yet I've done just that with Bella many times over the last few weeks. I really tried to keep my relationship with Bella professional, but the more I was around her, the harder it was to do. So many times I wanted to kiss her or hold her, and I was fairly certain she wouldn't have turned me away, but deep down, I knew it was wrong.

I doubt I have to worry about that any longer.

Looking at my office clock, I see that I have ten minutes before Renee's session. My stomach immediately starts to twist and cramp a bit as anxiety flows through my veins.

Fuck, I hope Bella's not here today.

I walk slowly to the family room, nodding hello to co-workers and patients as I go. My body freezes when I step into the room. There on one side is Renee, looking as angry as ever, and on the opposite side is Bella.

 _Shit._

How in the hell am I supposed to concentrate on Renee's needs while wondering what Bella is thinking the entire time?

I thought I'd trained myself not to feel much of anything anymore, but the anger, hurt, and desire I feel toward Bella is confusing the hell out of me.

Greeting both women without looking at them, I sit in my usual chair and clear my throat.

"I know last week's session didn't end very well. I'm wondering if either of you has anything to say about what happened before we move on."

I force my eyes to look at Renee first, and she looks exactly the way she does every week. No eye contact, picking at her nails, silent. When she and I have our private counseling sessions or when I see her walking around the building, she's much different. She smiles and seems friendly. It's obvious the change is due to Bella's presence, but is it out of hatred or guilt? Unfortunately, I still don't know.

Bracing myself, I finally look over at Bella.

Shit, she looks just as bad as I do, if not worse. We share the same red eyes, and she looks like she literally just fell out of bed

 _Do not feel guilty, Edward. She's in the wrong. Not you._

I clear my throat before asking her if there's something she wants to share.

Her eyes fill with tears, and I'm overcome with the need to catch those that fall, but I refrain. I watch as she straightens her back and looks directly at Renee.

"Mom," she says. "I'm sorry for yelling at you last week. I stand behind everything I said, but I know I was disrespectful in my delivery, and for that, I apologize."

She's amazing. She has no idea how strong she is.

Renee doesn't say anything, but she does stop fidgeting.

"Renee, what was your relationship with Bella like before rehab?"

"Which time?" She laughs, her voice scratchy from too many cigarettes.

"This time."

She shrugs. "I don't know. We didn't talk much, maybe once every two weeks or so. Bella would call and check on me. She'd ask me how I was feeling and if I needed anything, like clothes or food."

"How did that make you feel?"

"It felt good. Everybody likes to feel taken care of, right? It was nice to get that from her after all I'd done for her."

A gasp escapes from Bella. "What _exactly_ did you do for me?"

"I gave up my life for you, sacrificed everything for you, Bella. You're just too stubborn to admit it."

"Stop trying to be the martyr here, Mom. No one's buying it."

I'm silent as the two ladies argue, hoping it will be more beneficial than harmful for them to voice their feelings to each other.

"You're just like your dad," Renee spits out.

"Well, that makes sense, seeing that he was the one to raise me."

Renee starts to stand up, but I quickly decide to intervene and redirect. "Renee, your relationship with Bella is currently on rocky ground, to say the least. You want to make it better, right?" I ask, pausing for a second. "Do you foresee a time when the two of you will be closer? More civil, at least?"

Plopping back down in her chair, she lets out a humorless laugh. "How can we? She loathes me and wants to keep me locked up in here forever. I can never trust her. She'll be watching over me, just waiting for me to mess up so she can bring me back here."

Bella turns and looks at me, grief-stricken. "What do I do with that? I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. There's no winning with her."

My heart breaks for her because I know she's trying so hard. She's always tried so hard, but she's at her breaking point now, and I can't stand to see her so hopeless.

"Renee, maybe we should put these family sessions on hold for a bit… take a couple of weeks off. You and Bella don't seem to be making any progress, and I'd hate for it to impede your recovery or put greater strains on your relationship with your daughter. Your _only_ daughter," I emphasize, hoping it sinks in. If she doesn't have Bella, she doesn't have anyone, and she's going to need someone in order to stay sober after she leaves.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Renee stands and heads for the door. "I could definitely use a break from this shit."

The door slams shut, and Bella and I are left in complete silence. That is, until the sound of sobbing catches my attention. Bella is shaking, crying so hard she can barely catch her breath. I don't think. I just go to her.

She's doubled over, hugging herself while she cries, and there's no way we can both fit in her chair. So I wrap my arms around her and pick her up, pulling her onto my lap when I sit on the floor. I hold her and stroke her hair, and fuck me, this feels too good… too _right_. I push my complicated feelings aside and simply console her. It's been ages since I've held a woman like this, but I don't allow myself to think about that either.

After a few more minutes of crying, Bella calms down. I feel her body relax and melt into mine, and I allow my arms to tighten around her. Just a little while longer, and then I'll have to let her go. I don't want to, but I have to.

Bella sits up and looks at me. I take the opportunity to wipe the tears from her cheeks, marveling at how soft her skin is.

"I'm so sorry, Edward." Her words are whispered and soothing, and I want to forgive her. Maybe I already have. It still doesn't change things, though.

I shake my head at her. "Don't worry about that right now. You have enough on your plate. You should go home and rest."

"Will you walk me home?" she asks, her eyes pleading.

What is she trying to do to me? My resolve can only last so long. Fuck.

Before I can answer, her mouth is on mine. I think we're both surprised by her boldness, but she quickly acclimates and increases the pressure of her kiss. My mind and body are at war, one wanting to run away, while the other wants to lay her down right here and take her, make her mine. The feel of her tongue brushing against my lips makes my resolve crumble, and I open for her, my tongue welcoming hers greedily.

Bella quickly straddles my lap, and I grab her ass to pull her roughly against my growing erection. Her moan drives me wild with lust, and I know I'm heading into dangerous territory.

With willpower I didn't know I had, I begin to slow down, eventually pulling away from her. Her mouth is swollen and red and perfect, and the hooded look she gives me makes my cock impossibly harder.

I close my eyes because if I keep looking at her, I'll end up fucking her here on this floor, and she deserves so much more than that.

"We have to stop, Bella."

"Why?"

"This can't happen for us. We can't be together."

A look of heartbreak crosses her face, but it quickly turns to anger. "What, am I not good enough to be one of your window-fucks, Edward?"

I recoil as if she just slapped me. "It's not about that. There are many reasons this can't happen, a very big one being that it's unethical."

"I don't buy it. If you were so worried about ethics, you wouldn't have asked me out in the first place."

"You're right. I _shouldn't_ have asked you out. I shouldn't have even had coffee with you. I thought I could keep things simple and platonic… I tried, but we've let things get out of control. You think you know me and want to be with me, but you don't. You can't. I'm no good for you, Bella. The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be."

"No, I don't want to accept that." Her hands grip my shoulders as she shakes her head. "You feel it too. I _know_ you do. You're just scared to admit it. I don't care about the other women. You've changed. I see it. You went from screwing women four or five times a week to nothing since we met. You can't tell me that doesn't mean anything."

Anger courses through me as I'm hit with the realization of just how much Bella has watched me. I scoot her off me and stand up. I need air. I need to get the hell out of here.

"Edward, please let me explain. I'll tell you everything, I swear." She stands and throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck so she can kiss me again. Before I can push her away, the door opens, and Jane walks in.

"What's going on here?" she asks, her cold tone filling the room. Her equally cold eyes scan over us, taking in the way Bella's wrapped around me. "Mr. Cullen, I think it's best you stop and think about the repercussions of your actions before this goes any further."

Jane and I only get along when we're fucking, but I know this is her way of helping. If any other colleague had walked in and caught Bella and me together, this would've played out differently, most likely with me being fired immediately.

I take a step back and wipe my mouth. "Don't worry. I'm done."

I grab my clipboard and walk out the door and then out of the building. I don't look back.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jiff:** Remember how I asked y'all to trust us in the last update? Well, keep it up, okay? But, look! We finally had an EPOV!

Unfortunately, Jenny Kate's WiFi is being an ass and not letting her join me for these author's notes, so I'll keep it short and say THANK YOU to GeekChic12, our fab beta, and to Rachel and Pamela, our amazing pre-readers. Also, thank you to YOU for loving this story and sharing your thoughts and feelings with us. We love hearing from you whether it's on ffn, Twitter, or FB. Have a great weekend!


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

My first thought as I wake to the sun coming through my window is, _please let this all be a dream_. Or nightmare, rather. I feel like I've been watching my life unravel before me, wanting to push pause or eject, tell myself to stop and turn the other way, but it keeps going… and getting worse by the second.

Yesterday, after I took things from bad to worse and kissed Edward, I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. What if I ruined his career? What if he gets fired because I acted on carnal desires? I feel so selfish, so humiliated. I shouldn't want to see him again, but I do. I need to have one last chance to apologize, to try to explain, and then I'll go like he asked me to. But I can't live the rest of my life wondering if he hates me. Hell, _I_ might even hate me.

The thought of having him tell me to leave again makes my chest hurt, but if I don't get rid of some of this guilt I'm carrying, it's going to bury me alive.

I thought a lot about everything last night as I lay in bed staring into the darkness. I thought about the way he looked when I told him the truth. I thought about how it felt when my lips touched his for the first time. It wasn't the way I had fantasized. He didn't take me against the window like I had imagined. _I_ claimed _him_. The second he wrapped his arms around me, I knew his touch wasn't going to be enough. I had to have him, taste him. I wanted to consume and be consumed. It was all me. All my fault.

And then Jane walked in.

I saw the second Edward changed. He'd been giving back, giving me what I wanted, but then he shut down. He went from hot to cold. The last words he spoke as he walked out the door cut like a knife.

 _I'm done._

And I know he is, but that doesn't change my need to apologize.

Swinging my legs onto the wood floor, I look toward the window and feel the pull to go to it, but since that's how I got myself into this mess in the first place, I refrain. I know what I need to do.

After a quick shower, I put on some clothes and pull my still damp hair into a ponytail.

On my way out the door, Mr. Chan calls my name. I look down at my phone and see it's a little after noon. I have a few minutes, so I turn around and walk back to the door that leads into the restaurant.

"Hi, Mr. Chan."

When I peek around the corner, the old man is chopping vegetables behind the counter.

"How's your mother?" he asks, keeping his head down as he works.

His question throws me straight back into that room, hearing her raspy voice say she's tired of this shit and knowing that by shit, she means me. "She's uh, getting better, I guess." It's crazy that after everything she's done and all that she's said, I still can't talk bad about her. "She's had some bad days, but it takes bad ones to get to the good ones, I suppose."

He looks up from the vegetables and squints his eyes until they're almost shut, examining me. "You need to do what's right for Bella," he says in his thick accent, pointing the knife in my direction. "Mother need to take care of herself. It be good for her." He nods his head and then goes back to chopping. "Have good day, Bella."

I can't help the small smile that forces its way onto my lips. "Thanks, Mr. Chan." Somehow the simple words of a wise old man make me feel a little better. They might not change my circumstances, but they confirm what I was already feeling—that it's time to let my mother do things on her own. I can't want it enough for her. If Renee is going to be sober, it's going to be on her own terms and because _she_ wants it. I'll just have to be okay with whatever the outcome is.

I put on a brave face as I begin my walk down the sidewalk and push thoughts of my mother to the back of my brain. I can only handle one fucked up situation at a time, and right now, I've got to make things right with Edward, or at least make an attempt to do so.

When I climb the steps to the big wooden doors, I take a deep breath before going inside. I know this is a free place of worship and anyone can enter, but I also feel bad because once again, I've taken the liberty of inserting myself into Edward's life by knowing things about him that he hasn't freely given.

I silently promise myself that this is the last time I'll cross these boundaries.

After letting my eyes adjust to the darkness of the foyer, I peek through the window on the door, taking inventory of the pews, looking for a specific head of untamed hair. I only pull the door wide enough to slip in, trying not to draw any attention to myself. Keeping my hand on the door, I allow it to shut behind me silently. Once inside the nave, I hear something that sounds like angels singing. It must be a recording because I can't see a soul in the giant choir loft above the altar. The music is beautiful, and I want to pause for a moment to listen, so I slide into the very last pew on the right side.

The wood creaks as I sit down, but not one head turns. The twenty or so people who are seated in front of me must be deep in prayer or meditation.

I look around for Edward but still have trouble making out identifiable characteristics. As my eyes roam the expanse of the room, I relax into the hardwood, allowing myself to just breathe and reflect. The colorful painted windows cast a unique light into the old building and make it easy for me to forget my problems, if only for a minute. I can see why Edward comes here.

Maybe the priest would let me move in.

Actually, I see no reason to stay here anymore. I came here for my mom, and she doesn't want me. I would stay here for Edward, but he doesn't want me either. I don't have anything waiting on me in Middletown, but it seems like the logical place to go. Maybe I can get my old job back.

As I'm mulling over my future, a tall form rises from one of the front pews, walks down the side, and disappears into a confession room.

I know it's Edward, so I wait, and then turn for the door. I give him a minute before standing up and following him out.

A few minutes later, when he walks out, I see him pause for a moment at the back of the pews

The bright sun practically blinds me, and I block it with my hand, searching for him on the sidewalk.

"Edward," I call out when I see him getting ready to cross the street.

He stops immediately, his back stiffening. I hate that he has that reaction to me. Slowly, he turns around, shoving his hands down into the pockets of his jeans. "Bella?"

"Hi." I know I sound stupid, but I didn't rehearse this.

"Did you follow me to church?" he asks, tilting his head.

"I, uh…" _The truth, Bella_. If I'm here to apologize and somehow make amends, I've got to shoot straight. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I actually followed you here once before." I bite my lip and turn my head, trying to keep myself from running. His beautiful blue eyes are so confused, so frustrated. I can't bear to look at him. "I just needed to tell you how sorry I am."

There's an awkward pause. I'm hoping he'll say something, anything to make me feel like I'm not a complete idiot for coming here today, but he says nothing.

"I know you think the worst of me, and I know what I did yesterday—kissing you—was a big mistake. I hope I didn't cost you your job, because you're really good at what you do, Edward."

"You're not completely to blame," he says coldly. "I led you on, made you think there was more when there wasn't, when there couldn't be."

I nod, willing myself to not be hurt by his words. "Yeah, well, I'm also sorry about watching you."

"Stop, Bella," he pleads quietly.

"No. I need to tell you that it's not as bad as it sounds." My voice cracks. "Can we go somewhere besides here and talk?" I ask, not wanting to do this in the middle of the sidewalk.

"There's a bench over in the cemetery."

He takes off walking in the opposite direction, and I follow him.

When he gets to the aforementioned bench, he sits down and rests his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. I sit on the opposite end and wipe my now sweaty palms on my jeans.

I start to question myself, asking why I even thought this was a good idea, but then I remember I haven't been acting very smart lately, and then there's that runaway train thing that I can't seem to get off of.

"What did you need to say?" His tone is bristly, not the smooth comforting sound to which I've grown accustomed. I can tell by the way he lets his head hang down and his eyes remain closed that he's losing patience with me.

I'm losing patience with myself.

I let out a deep breath and start telling him everything—how the binoculars were in the apartment when I moved there, how lonely I was when I first moved to the city, how I didn't just watch him when he was having sex, how I became attached to the man behind the window, and then later, how I became attached to the man on the other side.

"And lastly, I'm sorry for invading your privacy and maybe more importantly, for not being upfront about what I knew about you. But in my defense, if you don't want people watching, you shouldn't fuck women in your open window."

The last part comes out a little more defensive than I had planned, but I can't help it.

"You're right," he says, finally lifting his head but still not looking my way. "But it wasn't just that someone was watching. It was that _you_ were watching."

I nod, trying to figure out what he means by that.

"But you need to know that we can't be friends anymore, Bella. I overstepped my boundaries with you. It could be worse than losing my job. I could have my license revoked and never be able to practice again. If it had been anyone besides Jane that had walked into that room, I wouldn't have a job right now."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. So am I."

We sit in silence for a moment, letting the truth wash over us. An idea pops into my mind, and I struggle to keep the hope out of my voice.

"What if Renee wasn't your patient anymore? Could she be reassigned or something? There wouldn't be an ethical problem then, right?"

"I don't do relationships, Bella. My job is stressful. What you've seen in that window is my way of dealing with that stress. Some of my co-workers overeat to deal with the strain of the job, while others drink too much or gamble. I fuck my stress away. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's part of who I am." He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. His hand claws through his hair, gripping the ends.

"Where do we go from here?" I ask, needing some kind of reconciliation. I don't know if I can walk away from him. He's seeped so deeply into me that I crave him—his nearness, his companionship. I miss his warmth and hate that I've caused it to go away.

"Nowhere," he says quietly, and I feel the last ray of sunlight go dim.

"So, nothing then?" My voice trembles as my resolve slips. "Not even friends?"

"No," he says, shaking his head, keeping his eyes forward. "Not even friends. Trust me. It's for the best."

I want to kick and scream and throw myself on the ground, because it doesn't feel like what's best. It hurts, and I'm angry that he's pretending like he doesn't feel anything. He was starting to feel for me what I felt for him. I saw it in his eyes, and I could feel it in the few times we touched. He wanted me. Yesterday, when I kissed him, he kissed me back, and there was more passion in those thirty seconds than I've had in all my life. I want that. I want _him_.

"Take care of yourself, Bella." Still without looking at me, he stands and takes long strides to the gate of the cemetery.

For a split second, I hate him. I want to go back to when I didn't know he existed, because then I wouldn't know how bad it hurts to watch him walk away.

I sit on the bench until the sky turns to gray, mocking me. And then the rain starts, and I let it hit my face, willing it to wash away the sadness and regret. After my clothes are drenched and the water's soaked into my skin, chilling me to the bone, I begin walking back to my apartment.

When I pass his building, I don't look up. I keep my head down and continue walking down the saturated sidewalk. Mr. Chan greets me as I walk through the door of the restaurant, admonishing me for walking in the rain and demanding I take some soup to eat. I decline and slowly take the steps, feeling pulled down by my soggy clothes and everything that's happened the last couple of days.

Unlocking both deadbolts, I shuffle into the dim room and plop down on the edge of my bed, staring at the blank wall until my apartment goes dark.

I can't stay here.

I'm not sure if I'm moving back to Middletown or starting over in Timbuktu, but I can't stay here. Everything about this place reminds me of him and my mother and everything that's wrong in my life.

Finally, I force myself off the bed and shed my damp clothes. After tossing them into a pile beside the bed, I pull on an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, trying to warm myself up.

I lean over and turn my lamp on, taking inventory of the small drab apartment, and I'm reminded that I have nothing to occupy my time. I glare at the window and curse it under my breath, hating the pull I feel toward it, wanting to feel close to him one last time.

A minute later, I'm perched on the window sill, binoculars in hand. As I zoom across to his apartment, the pin is pulled on the grenade that's been rolling around since the first day I saw Edward Cullen, and my world explodes as I watch him.

His palms press forcefully into the glass.

His body tenses as he thrusts.

His hair is damp with sweat.

Instead of looking at the raven-haired woman beneath him, his eyes, angry and cold, stare straight into my soul, crushing me from the inside out.

For once, I know without a shadow of a doubt, he's doing this for me.

I should turn away, save myself from the pain that's now radiating through my chest, but I can't. When he's finished, his hand reaches up to the corner of the window, and a sheet of fabric covers the glass, effectively shutting me out.

* * *

 **Message from the bunker:**

Due to the nature of this chapter, there will be no Author's Notes. Jiff and Jenny Kate have went into hiding.

Regularly scheduled programming will resume on Friday.


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

"What do you mean you're leaving?" Alice asks, dropping her fork to her plate.

It feels like every person walking past our table on the sidewalk is now listening to our conversation.

"I'm moving," I say, much quieter than her, hoping she takes my cue.

"Where?" Rose asks, confusion all over her face.

"Back to Middletown? I don't really know. Haven't thought it through that far." I cast my gaze to my lap, fidgeting with my napkin, avoiding their glares. I didn't think _this_ through that far either. I knew Alice wouldn't be happy about me moving, but I didn't consider Rose being on her side. "Just not here."

"Why would you want to do that, Bella?" Alice slips her hand across the table, getting me to look back up at her. "What's in Middletown that's worth moving back for?"

I shrug because the answer is nothing, but I don't know where else to go.

"I get that you moved here for your mom and she shit all over that," Rose says. "But that doesn't mean you have to leave."

"It's expensive to live here. I'm barely making it," I tell them.

The three of us sit in silence for a moment. They know it's the truth. They can't tell me to find cheaper housing because let's face it, I live in a closet above a Chinese restaurant. How much cheaper can you get?

"Maybe you could get a second job?" Rose suggests. "I have a friend who owns a fabric store not far from the library."

I nod. "I've thought about that, but…"

"But what?" Alice interjects. "You can come up with all the excuses you want, but we're gonna call bullshit."

"I don't want to live in my apartment anymore."

"Did Mr. Chan piss you off?" Alice asks with a laugh.

"No," I say with a smile.

"Did you just realize what a shit hole it is?" Rose asks.

I laugh, but the humor isn't there. "Not exactly."

"Then what?" Alice demands.

"Remember that guy I told you about?"

"Coffee date?" Rose asks.

"Yeah."

"What about him?" Alice sits back in her chair and crosses her arms, and I know it's time to come clean, so I do. I tell them every sordid detail.

When I'm finished, Rose has a twisted smile on her face, and Alice's eyes are locked on me. Finally, Alice lets out a scoff and shakes her head. "So you stalked him?"

"It wasn't like that. Not at first. I just… wanted him?" I'm not sure how to explain it, and my face heats up with the embarrassment of admitting my actions and feelings.

"Wow," Rose says. "This is like soap opera shit."

Part of me wishes I could let them into my brain and make them understand, but the other part is selfish and wants to keep certain things about Edward to myself. They're my memories, and that's all I have left of him.

"I guess," I reply. "I didn't mean to cause him any trouble. And continuing to live that close to him is torture. I just want out."

"I get it." Rose nods her head. "You need some distance."

"Yeah. I've gotta get my head on straight, and there's no way I can do that living where I am." The temptation alone would drive me insane.

"Move in with Jasper and me," Alice suggests. "We have a spare bedroom."

"I'm not freeloading off you and Jasper." I shake my head and roll my eyes at the suggestion, because it's crazy.

"I'll charge you rent."

"It'd be a good change of location," Rose says. "Plus, we'd all live within a few blocks of each other. It'd be great."

I let out a deep breath, still not knowing what the hell I'm doing, but something about Alice's offer feels right. Since I don't really have any other options and I never wanted to move back to Middletown, I finally nod my head. "Okay, but I'm paying for my share of the groceries, too. And you can't mother me." I give her a warning stare.

Her hands go up in surrender. "Fine, no curfew."

I roll my eyes at her again and laugh. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

For the first time in over a week, the clouds above me don't feel so dark.

I still miss him.

And I'm still sorry.

But I'm moving on.

**WaS**

The three boxes stacked beside the door are mostly full of books and a few odds and ends I've accumulated. My clothes fit in the two duffel bags I used when I moved here, and my bed is disassembled and leaning against the wall. I'm leaving the small table and chairs and the makeshift bookshelf. Mr. Chan said he would find someone who needs them or put them in the basement. Emmett and Jasper are going to be here in an hour to move my things.

The box sitting beside me contains the three items I found when I moved in: the picture of Li Ju Chan, the book, and the binoculars. Part of me wants to take them with me, but the other part knows I need to leave them behind, along with _him_. I thought about walking the box down to Mr. Chan so I won't be tempted at the last minute, but I decide to leave the box right where I found it.

As I sit on the bare floor of the now empty room, it takes on a completely different feel. Without my few belongings, it feels foreign, but maybe it's more than that. Maybe it feels so different because the fantasy I allowed myself to dream about while I've lived here is gone. I take a deep breath and let it out, watching the dust particles float through the air, reflecting the sunlight coming through the window.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.

"Bella?"

"Come in," I call from my spot on the floor as I push myself up.

"You ready?" Jasper asks, peeking his head in the door.

"Yeah." I dust my hands off on my jeans, taking one last look around the room.

"Is this it?" He points to the stack of boxes and my two bags.

"Yeah, and my bed."

"Okay." He nods, checking out the space. "Damn, this place is tiny."

"Don't start. I've heard enough about what a shit hole it is from Rose and Alice."

He laughs and shakes his head. "I can imagine." He takes one of the boxes off the stack. "I'll carry this one down, and then Emmett should be here. We can probably get all this in one load."

"Okay." I grab one of the duffel bags and follow him down the stairs.

Thirty minutes later, all of my things are packed into the truck. I stop Jasper before he gets in the driver's seat. "Do you mind waiting a few more minutes? I need to turn in my key and say goodbye to Mr. Chan."

"Sure, Bella. No problem." His smile is genuine, and I'm reminded of how fortunate I am to have such great friends in my life.

As I get closer to the restaurant's door, my feet start dragging. I hate goodbyes, and this is one of three I've had to endure lately. Although I technically didn't tell Renee goodbye, in my mind and in my heart, I did. We're not doing either of us any good right now, and we need to keep our distance. Watching Edward walk away from me and then later cover his window hurt me like nothing I've ever experienced, but I accepted it because I deserved it. Now, I'm leaving the man who has looked over me like a grandfather since I moved to the city.

When I step inside, Mr. Chan is busy and doesn't look up at me. I walk to the end of the counter and gently set my key down.

He stops his work but keeps his head down. "Are you sure this is good idea, Bella?"

"Yes, Mr. Chan. I need to move, but I won't be far. I can visit you, if you'd like."

"Every Wednesday, seven o'clock, you come here for food. No argument."

I can't help but smile at the generous man and accept his demands. "Yes, sir. I'll be here. Thank you, Mr. Chan… for everything."

He finally looks up at me and gives me a single nod of his head. "You're a good girl. Now, go. Damn onions make my eyes water."

"Okay. Bye, Mr. Chan." I back away from the counter after glancing at his chopping board and seeing that it does _not_ have onions anywhere near it. I'm going to miss him so much.

"See you Wednesday, Bella," he calls out as I reach the door.

"I wouldn't miss it," I tell him before letting the door close behind me.

After unloading and unpacking my few bags and belongings, Alice and I are sitting on my bed, relaxing and sharing a pitcher of mojitos.

"I'm so glad you're here, Bella."

"I don't want to wear out my welcome, Alice. When you're tired of me, tell me. Promise?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "Whatever. It just makes sense. You need a place to stay, and we have room. If we didn't have room, I'd make you share a bed with me and Jasper!"

I'm laughing but can't quite cover the look of horror on my face at that particular mental image. This is why friends shouldn't share intimate details of their sex lives.

Alice just laughs harder. "Hey, it'd be better than going back to Middletown!"

I stop laughing and let out a deep sigh. "Would it, really?"

"Fuck, yes, Bella. If you go back, you'll still be the girl whose dad died. You'll be the daughter of a junkie. But worse, you'll be the girl who couldn't hack it in the city."

Even though I know she's right, I don't say anything, choosing instead to crush the mint leaves in my drink with my straw and watch the tiny bits float around in my glass.

"But if you stay here," she continues, "you can be whoever the hell you want to be. You can reinvent yourself every day until you find _you_. There's a freedom here that you can't find most places. You can hide if you want to, but I'm really hoping you'll embrace this new start and finally start living."

"Sometimes I wonder if I even know how to do that."

"You do. I remember the girl who used to daydream about getting the hell out of Middletown. You're still that girl. I see her."

I look at Alice, really look at her, and it's funny because I can still see the girl who understood me, who had a similar life to mine, similar struggles… my best friend. The fact that she still sees me gives me hope that maybe I can find myself.

"Thanks for seeing her."

She leans over and kisses my cheek. "You see her too."

We sit there for a few minutes, sipping the last of our mojitos, staring out at the city below. Alice and Jasper have a nice view, but it's not… _Stop, Bella._

"Maybe you'll meet a nice guy."

"I think I'll give that a rest for a while."

"You'll meet the perfect one when you least expect it, and he'll sweep you off your feet. You won't know what hit you." Alice gets a dreamy look in her eyes as she leans over, resting her head in her hand. "Your Jasper is out there."

"I don't know about that." I shake my head, laughing humorlessly at myself. "Maybe I'm defunct. I mean, look who I came from. What if I end up like her?" I don't know if it's being in Alice's company or the pitcher of mojitos, but I let my biggest fear breathe life. I give it wings and let it fly out of my mouth. "I don't want that, Alice. I don't want to be like her."

"You're not. You never could be."

"How do you know?"

"I told you. I see you. I know who you are, Bella Swan, and it is not Renee. You are so much like Charlie," she says, her hand resting on mine. "He'd be really proud of you, you know."

I wipe a tear away and smile a sad smile. "I miss him so much."

"Yeah, I know."

"He was so good. His only fault in life was loving her." I laugh. "I guess I _am_ like him."

"You can't help that, and neither could he, but you have a chance to be happy in life, leave all of that shit behind. He would want you to take it. You've done all you can do. It's okay to let go."

I nod and let more tears fall, leaning over on Alice's shoulder, absorbing her words and her acceptance. It feels good to not be alone.

**WaS**

"You wanna stop for a coffee on the way to work?" Alice asks, peeking her head in my door.

"Sure." I just finished getting dressed, so I step into my flats and grab my bag.

On our way down the sidewalk, I pull my damp hair back and twist it around into a bun.

"Damn, it's hot," Alice groans. "Only seven in the morning, and it already feels so humid."

"I know. I guess that's the joy of August. I think Mother Nature does it on purpose, makes us beg for cooler weather. Then, by December, we'll already be bitching and complaining about the cold and snow."

"She must hate us."

We're both laughing as we step into the coffee shop, our new regular stop on the way to work, or _my_ new regular. Alice has been coming here for a while. This new change of scenery is good for me, but I do miss seeing Mr. Chan every morning on my way out the door. I've kept my promise and been by for dinner the last two Wednesdays.

I thought it might be a bad idea, being that close to Edward's apartment and all. The first Wednesday was a little weird, but the second I saw Mr. Chan and he greeted me in his familiar way, all the weirdness left. Last Wednesday, I ended up staying over two hours and helping him clean up a little before I left. He told me if I kept it up, he'd have to pay me, which is crazy. I owe him so much. He has no idea.

"Two lattes?" the friendly girl behind the counter asks.

"Yep," Alice answers. "And it's on me this morning."

"No, you paid yesterday." I put my five-dollar bill down on the counter, not leaving any room for argument. Alice and Jasper both drive me crazy with not letting me pay for things. The truth is, I'm doing so much better financially. Staying with them is saving me two hundred dollars a month in rent, so I don't need her buying my damn coffee.

"No," Alice says forcefully. "You," she continues, taking the money and shoving it into my bag, "bought everything to make tacos last night, so coffee is on me."

"Whatever." I roll my eyes and walk to the end of the counter to wait on our order. She's impossible sometimes.

"So, are you still thinking about taking that part-time job at the clothing store?" Alice asks, grabbing sugar packets and stirrers and sticking them in her bag.

"Yeah, I think it'd be a great way to make some extra money. I can't live in your spare bedroom forever."

"You've only been there three weeks. Stop trying to leave me so soon."

I laugh and grab my coffee off the counter. "You're going to get tired of me. I promise."

Alice loops her arm in mine, and we start off down the sidewalk toward the library. Just before we get to the front doors, my phone rings in my bag and startles me. It hardly ever rings anymore now that I live with Alice and see Rose all the time… and Jake finally quit calling and texting.

"Hello?" I say, pressing the phone to my ear, trying not to spill my coffee.

"Yes, I'm calling for Isabella Swan," the lady on the other end says.

"This is she."

"Ms. Swan, this is Freedmont Rehabilitation. Can you say your identification code, please?"

Great. Renee's facility is calling, and they won't give me any information unless I say the code number I was given when she was admitted. Part of me wants to claim they have the wrong number and hang up, but I won't. It has to be important if they're reaching out to me, right?

"S-w-a-n-five-eight-three-six."

"Thank you. We're calling to let you know your mother, Renee Swan, has been moved to a halfway house."

"Okay." I don't know what she expects me to say, but that's all I've got. I don't care. They could send her to the moon, and it'd be fine by me.

"You, uh, don't need to do anything," she says, stumbling a bit over her words. "It's just our requirement that the next of kin is notified. I can give you the telephone number and address of the house, if you'd like."

"No thanks."

I hang up, not giving her a chance to say anything else. I don't want to know where they're sending her. I'm afraid I'll cave and go to her, and I don't want that. She doesn't get to make me feel bad about my life anymore. She doesn't get to make me feel sad and helpless. She can continue being the martyr, but I'm done being the victim.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jiff:** You go, girl! *punches the sky*

 **Jenny Kate:** I think Bella gets a high-five for this chapter. She's finally taking some steps in the right direction and it feels good.

 **Jiff** : I think we can all agree that Bella needs to start focusing on herself and get to a better place, mentally.

 **Jenny Kate:** Agreed. Thanks to all of you who are still with us. We know the last chapter was rough. However, the conversations and threads on Facebook Monday were perfection. We love how invested y'all are in this story. It means the world to us.

 **Jiff** : It blows us away how strongly y'all feel about these characters, whether it's in a positive or negative way, and we love that you don't hold back when telling us!

 **Jenny Kate:** As always, we'd like to thank Geeky, Rachel, and Pamela for being awesome and so supportive. We don't know what we'd do without them.

Have a great weekend! We'll see you Tuesday!


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

 **EPOV**

"So, tell me, Edward. How was your week?"

It's been three weeks since I started seeing Carmen, and I still struggle with my current role reversal. I know this is what I need to get better, and it won't do me any good to play games. Carmen Huilen is one of the best in the business, so now the therapist has become the patient.

"Fine. Boring. The same."

Carmen's expression doesn't change as she waits for me to elaborate. It must be tough to have a patient that's in the same field as you, but at least we both know when the other is bullshitting.

I let out a deep sigh and slouch down in my chair. "I'm being serious. It was fine. It was boring because I didn't do anything other than hang out in my apartment and take the occasional walk around my neighborhood. It was the same because that's all I've done since leaving my job."

"Have you spoken with anyone?"

"Just Jane. We're meeting for coffee later."

"Have you… _seen_ anyone?"

"Are you asking if I've fucked anyone in front of my window?" Carmen knows all about my extracurricular activities, so my question doesn't surprise her.

"Yes, that's what I'm asking, Edward. Have you fucked anyone—escort or otherwise—in the past week?"

My mind flashes back to three Sundays ago. I don't remember anything about the girl I screwed in my living room. I only remember the look of defeat and rejection on Bella's face earlier that day when we were sitting on the bench in the cemetery. It haunts me. Later that night, I intentionally hurt her even more by what I did in the window. Selfishly, I'm glad I couldn't see her face at that moment. It would've killed me. My guilt from that night is a constant reminder of one of the many reasons I deserve to be alone, which is exactly why I did it. I had to show Bella I'm unworthy of her.

"No. There hasn't been anyone since the night before I called you."

"Has it been difficult to refrain? You had quite the sexual appetite before you started therapy."

"I'm not a sex addict, Carmen. We both know I use meaningless sex as a form of stress relief, a way to fulfill a need without attachments."

"I agree that you're not a true sex addict, Edward, but if you're not careful, I'm afraid you could cross that line. My main focus here is your depression. You're harboring some major guilt and self-loathing, as well as feelings of abandonment, and you tend to use sex to act out. I'll ask you again. Has it been difficult to refrain from sex?"

"No, it hasn't been hard to stay away from women."

"Why do you think that is?" She's really making me dislike my profession today. All the fucking questions.

"I have no desire to be with anyone any time soon. No desire, no action. It's very simple."

"Low sexual desire could be a result of your prescribed antidepressant. Would you like for me to change the dosage?"

Shaking my head, I shift in my seat. "It's not the meds. I still get aroused. I just don't act upon it. I don't have the _desire_ to be with anyone."

I haven't had any desire for anything since I pushed Bella out of my life. Knowing she's better off without me and that she probably hates me now is the only thing stopping me from going to her apartment and apologizing.

We're a lot alike, Bella and I. We have similar backgrounds that cause us to seek affection and approval, and yet we're very lonely. The difference is, Bella doesn't want to be alone, and I do.

I recognized the glimmer of hope in her eyes when she asked about me removing myself from her mother's case that Sunday in the park, but I know I'm not the person she thinks I am. I was beginning to feel myself slipping. The walls I put up so long ago had started to crumble, but I couldn't allow them to fall. My life has worked this way for a long time. Keeping the compartments locked tightly is the only way to maintain the balance.

I hope she finds solace in someone else. I hope she gets what she needs and deserves.

Don't I?

That's what I want, right?

Since I'm not good enough for her and I can't give her those things, I want someone else to fill that void. I do.

I've worked hard over the last few weeks to convince myself of that, but I'm not sure it's working.

**WaS**

Instead of taking a cab from Carmen's office to the coffee shop by the rehab facility, where I'm meeting Jane, I decide to walk. It's not too far away. Plus, I've found I do some of my best reflecting when I'm walking without a purpose, just strolling and enjoying the scenery.

I love living in the city. My senses are assaulted in the best ways every time I step onto the sidewalk, with the exception of the smells. City life only smells good when you're walking past a great restaurant.

As if the universe didn't hate me enough already, the minute that particular thought enters my head, my attention is caught by a delicious aroma. Looking to my right, I see Mr. Chan's place and immediately think of Bella. I've walked past here a couple of times recently, but I've never allowed myself to even consider going inside.

I want to today, though. I don't know if Bella still lives here or not, and I'm not sure what I'd do if I were to run into her. It's not lost on me that _I'd_ be the one looking like a stalker this time.

Without another thought, I step into the restaurant and walk to the counter. Mr. Chan is stirring a soup that smells fucking amazing, and my mouth instantly waters. I recognize it as being Bella's favorite, and the memory of how her face lit up with delight when Mr. Chan gave her extra wontons makes me smile.

"You with Bella?" Mr. Chan asks, startling me.

"Oh, um, no. I'm not."

"You don't get soup."

Am I in a Seinfeld episode or something?

"Is the soup not ready?" Surely he's not denying me the soup because Bella isn't here with me.

"Soup always ready, just not for you."

"Why not? What did I do?"

"You Bella's boyfriend?"

"No, I'm not."

"You her friend?"

"No." I sigh, not caring that he can hear the sadness in my voice.

"Then you don't get soup."

"But I'm a paying customer."

Finally, he hands me a bowl of soup. When I thank him, he tells me "no extra wontons" and goes back to work.

**WaS**

Later at the coffee shop, I order an iced coffee and wait for Jane. My mouth is still burning from Mr. Chan's soup, and I can't help but wonder if he spiced my bowl up on purpose. I wouldn't blame him if he did. I'm glad he's so protective of Bella. She needs people like that in her life, friends who will keep people like me out of it.

A steeping cup of tea is placed on the table across from me before a flustered blonde sits down with a huff.

"You picked a shitty time to take a sabbatical, Edward."

"Nice to see you too, Jane," I reply.

Jane and I have worked together at Freedmont for the last two years, and she's the closest friend I have. I use the term "friend" loosely, though. We work together, we understand each other, and we used to fuck occasionally. Jane isn't one to want something meaningful either. She's too focused on her career to let a relationship get in the way, and to be completely honest, she can be a real selfish bitch when she wants to be.

The few times we were together, we struggled to find a balance between us because we both like being in control. We tried to take turns. When we fucked at her place, she was always on top while my hands were tied to her bed. At my apartment, I'd take her from behind with my hand pulling her ponytail tightly. After getting off, we'd get dressed and go our separate ways, and when we'd see each other at work, it was like the night before had never happened. After the last time we fucked, we agreed to start meeting for coffee instead, and it's worked out rather well for us. Jane doesn't know all my secrets, but I'm comfortable talking to her, and I know she won't judge me.

She rolls her eyes while blowing on her tea. "We received three new patients last night, and they're all violent while they detox. I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours."

I hate hearing this. "Why hasn't anyone been hired to replace me? It's been almost a month."

Jane shrugs before answering. "It's hard to find someone as dedicated and as good as you are, Edward. But don't think about coming back. I won't let you. You need this time to yourself. Besides, a couple of therapists from Townsend Recovery Center are going to fill in until we find someone to permanently take your place."

When I start to speak, Jane holds her hand up to stop me. "Don't. Don't you dare apologize or thank me again. You can't move forward if you're still focused on the past."

"Shit, Jane. You sound just like a therapist. You gonna charge me for that little nugget of wisdom?" I smile to let her know I'm picking on her, and she flips me off to say 'thanks'. We both know things would be a lot worse if she hadn't been the one to walk in on me and Bella that day after Renee's family session, and I'll always be grateful for her help.

"You look good with a beard, by the way. It suits you."

I chuckle and scratch at my jaw. The new growth is different for me. I've been known to sport a stubble every now and then, but this is more than that. "Thanks."

"So, have you seen her?"

She doesn't have to say her name for me to know whom she means. "No."

"She hasn't been back to the facility. I checked."

I nod, not sure if I want to know this or not.

"Also, Renee was released into a halfway house last week."

I frown at that. I know I'm not her therapist any longer, but I'm still invested. Taking myself off her case wasn't easy. I pride myself on seeing things through, helping people, and watching them get their lives back. It's what keeps me going. It's what makes me love my job. But Renee wasn't responding the way she needed to be. Maybe she started opening up more when she was reassigned. If not, then I find it hard to believe she was ready to be released. Patients slipping through the cracks is my biggest nightmare, something I never want to happen on my watch.

"I can see you don't approve," Jane says, lifting her tea to her mouth and crooking an eyebrow at me.

"It's not my case," I tell her, deflecting and also trying to convince myself.

"Yeah, well, it isn't my case either, but if you ask me, she wasn't ready."

I nod. Jane and I usually agree on these topics.

"That's not your fault either," she adds, taking a sip of her tea and then setting the cup back down on the table. "You did the right thing by removing yourself from her case."

"I know."

**WaS**

It's been a week since Jane told me about Renee being moved to the halfway house, and I haven't been able to quit thinking about it since. After a few nights of restless sleep, I decided to call Jane and ask if she could get me the location of the house. I know I'm not her therapist, but I need to check on her, help if I can. I'm sure her current therapist is keeping tabs on her, but I need to know she's okay for myself. I contacted her caseworker, and she thought it'd be good for us to meet, so she set up an appointment for today.

Walking up the steps, I push the buzzer and wait. The apartment building doesn't look too bad from the outside. I've been in some halfway houses that are ratholes, barely better than a federal prison. On the other hand, there are some that are pretty nice. This appears to be somewhere in the middle.

The door buzzes, and when I hear it unlock, I open it and walk in.

"Can I help you?" an older woman asks. Her dark hair is streaked with gray and pulled tightly into a bun, giving her a hard edge.

"I'm Edward Cullen. I'm here to see Renee Swan."

"Yes, Mr. Cullen," she says, looking down at a clipboard in her hand. "Ms. Jones said you'd be by. Follow me."

We take the stairs to the second floor, and she leads me into an open room, what I'm assuming used to be an apartment but is now used for a meeting space or group activities. Renee is sitting in the chair by the window.

"You have thirty minutes."

"Thank you."

The lady turns and leaves, and Renee continues to stare out the window.

"Renee," I say, trying to get her attention and gauge her mood.

She looks up and gives me a small smile. "Hello, Mr. Cullen."

"Edward. You can just call me Edward."

She laughs lightly and nods her head. "Okay, Edward." Shifting in her chair, she turns to face me. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I smirk and have a seat in the chair across from her. "I just wanted to check on you, make sure they're not mistreating you."

"Well, it's no Freedmont, but it's pretty swanky."

It's good to see that her spunk is there, and she looks better. Her skin has some color, and her hair is clean and pulled back in a ponytail. She reminds me a little of her daughter, and I have to push that out of my mind.

I decide to cut to the chase. "I was a little surprised when I heard you'd been moved."

"Ms. Jones thought I was ready." The way she twists her mouth and looks back out the window makes me wonder if she believes that.

"Do you feel ready?"

She lets out a deep, exaggerated breath and faces me, looking me straight in the eye. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"You could go back to Freedmont, you know."

"And what are they gonna do for me, huh? Put me in more therapy sessions? Make me talk about my feelings? Maybe call my family?" She pushes herself forcefully out of the chair. "Oh, wait," she says, spinning around. "That's right. I don't have any."

I sit quietly, allowing her to vent. Switching from rehab to a halfway house can be stressful. Maybe she needs to get all of this off her chest. Sometimes it helps to verbalize.

"Bella is all I have, and she wants nothing to do with me. And for good reason." Her eyes are filled with unshed tears. "The further she can get from me, the better. There's no helping me, Edward. The damage is done." Her voice goes from yelling to almost a whisper, and I watch as she deflates like a balloon. She sits back in the chair and pulls her knees to her chest, similar to the way she used to sit through therapy sessions, especially ones when Bella was there. "You're off the hook. I'm not your concern anymore."

"You have to _want_ this for it to work."

"Stop with the therapy bullshit. I can't take any more." Her hands grip her head, and she buries her face in her knees.

"That's me telling you the truth. If you don't want this for you, it will never work. Wanting it is half the battle."

"I just want to be left alone," she says wearily.

I let out a sigh and run my hand through my hair. One of the worst feelings is watching a patient give up on themselves and knowing there's nothing you can do about it. I take a card out of my pocket and lay it on the chair beside her.

"That's my card. My personal cell number is on the back. Call me day or night, even if you just need to yell at someone or if you run out of gum."

She huffs out a small laugh and wipes at a tear. "Thanks."

I turn to leave, but she stops me before I get to the door.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen her?" she asks, and her voice is laced with pain and regret.

I shake my head, wishing I had something to tell her, something that could put her mind at ease when it comes to her daughter, but she'd hate to know my departing memory of Bella.

"I thought maybe there was something between you two. I swear you could cut the tension with a knife some days in our sessions."

"We were, uh, friends," I tell her, but the word tastes bitter on my tongue. Friends definitely don't treat each other like I treated Bella. "But I haven't seen her since our last session." It's a lie, but I can't tell her the truth. It's bad enough that I have to live with that. She doesn't need to know.

"That's too bad," Renee says, hugging her knees. "She could really use a good guy like you."

I shake my head and feel like crawling into a hole. "I'm not as good as you think I am."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I've seen a lot of good qualities in you, and just because I'm a junkie doesn't mean I'm a bad judge of character."

I give her a smile that doesn't reach my eyes and wish her words were true.

"Why are you still willing to help me? You must think I'm the worst mother ever," she says, looking out the window.

"We all fall down," I tell her, turning for the door but pausing before I leave. "It's how we get back up that matters."

**WaS**

Walking through the door of my apartment, I pass the table by the window and toss my keys into the bowl. The long black curtains taunt me. I thought they'd be a good barrier to keep me from using the window… to keep me from thinking about Bella. I thought they'd help me forget about the blurred lines and the way my heart was cracking open after being locked up so tight for so long. They were meant to keep me from hurting her any more than I already had. But what they've become over the past month is a constant reminder. They remind me of what I had allowed myself to become. They remind me of the pain I caused Bella.

My fingers toy with the edge, wanting to pull it back, but the urge to fuck someone in front of the window is gone. The rush of adrenaline I used to feel is absent. The need to relieve the stress of my day is nonexistent. I'd like to credit Carmen with getting me to this point, but the truth is, the desire left me the night I fucked someone in this window with the intention of Bella watching. I fucked someone I didn't give two shits about, hoping Bella would see me for what I am and that she would run.

I pull the curtain back enough so that I can see across the way to her building. Like the couple of times before, when I've allowed myself to look, the window that I'm assuming belongs to Bella is dark. Every window in the building is dark. Unlike the first night I looked this direction, knowing she was there, I feel nothing… no pull. I don't know if it's because I've pushed her away and successfully locked her out or if it's because she's literally gone. But I do know the emptiness I've felt since the day I walked away from her, leaving her on that bench, makes my chest ache. This new emptiness is overshadowing any residual pain from my past. The wound is still sticky with freshly shed blood. She's left a mark, and as much as I want to forget her, I can't.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jiff:** Hey, y'all. We hope you enjoyed another peek inside Edward's head. Jenny Kate and I are emotionally drained after watching the series finale of Sons of Anarchy so, we're keeping these notes short.

 **Jenny Kate:** JFTR, I don't accept that.

 **Jiff:** NOPE. Fuck you, Kurt Sutter.

 **Jenny Kate:** *hands him over to Marilyn Manson* I guess we should be talking about Edward. We're crossing fandoms here. But, in all seriousness, if anyone has any good alternate ending SoA fics they want to rec us, we'd appreciate it.

 **Jiff:** Thanks to our girls, Geeky, Rachel, and Pamela! *slams gavel*


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

"Hello," I call out to whoever just came in the door. I finish putting two boxes of hangers back in the storage room and walk out to the main part of the store to see who's there.

"Hello," a manly voice replies, startling me.

"Oh, hi." I'm sure the surprised smile on my face says it all. In the month I've worked here, I've yet to see a man in the store. Even the men who come with their wives always wait on the bench out front. The boutique is small and filled with floral, lace, and all things feminine. Definitely not accommodating to the male population. We have a lot of skirts and blouses and vintage jewelry—stuff that would send most guys running for the hills, unless they're a cross-dresser, of course.

"Can I help you find anything?" I ask. I'm definitely not the fashionista that Rose is, but I've learned my way around the store well enough to run the place when Irina is away. It's been a good way for me to make an extra hundred dollars a week. Plus, it keeps me busy, giving me less time to sit around and think too much.

I finally get a good look at the man, and he's definitely not a cross-dresser. His crisp white shirt is tucked neatly into a pair of equally crisp slacks. His belt matches his shoes, and his hair is intentionally messy. It's the kind smile on his face that forces one onto my own. I like the way his eyes twinkle. And the blush on his cheeks makes him even more endearing. "I'm looking for something for my mother. This is her favorite store, and her birthday is next week. But now that I'm here, I'm kinda overwhelmed."

He presses his palms together and rests his chin on his fingertips as he looks around the store, and I feel the need to help make this not so torturous for him, especially because he's doing such a nice thing by coming here for his mother. Most guys would take the easy road and send flowers or buy a gift card.

"Well, what's your mother's name?" I ask, walking behind the counter. Irina keeps a clever little index box with the names of her regulars. It has sizes, color preferences, and even wish lists.

"Chelsea Bertolini."

I flip through the file until I reach the Bs and find her card. She's a size six. Her favorite colors are navy blue and coral, and conveniently enough, she just listed two new items on her wish list: a beautiful cream-colored lace blouse that's in the window and a gorgeous statement necklace I remember seeing on the mannequin by the register.

I walk up to the front and take the blouse from the window. "Your mother has this on her wish list."

His eyes light up, and he smiles. "That's perfect."

"Let me go see if we have her size in the back," I tell him, slipping behind the curtain that leads to the storage room. This is a newer arrival, and we still have a few tucked away. Irina likes to keep the small boutique as uncluttered as possible. "She also listed the necklace that's on the mannequin by the register," I call out, looking through the rack of blouses for one in her size. "But don't think I'm trying to be a pushy sales girl." I laugh and make my way back up to the register with the blouse in hand.

"You're anything but pushy," he says, leaning over on the antique wooden dresser that doubles as the counter. "I'll take the necklace too."

"Great. Can I wrap them for you?"

"Would you?" he asks with the most adorable grateful expression on his face. "I'm the worst wrapper ever."

"Gift sacks are your friend," I tease, pulling out a few sheets of tissue paper and two boxes.

A few minutes later, there are two neatly wrapped packages with pretty blue bows.

"You've been a lifesaver," he says, taking the boxes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I would say I hope she likes the gifts, but I think that's pretty much guaranteed." I smile at him, and he quirks an eyebrow at me.

I expect him to leave now that his gift buying is complete, but he lingers by the counter a few extra seconds. "I'm Anton," he says, shifting both boxes to one hand and offering me the other.

"Bella," I tell him, shaking his hand.

"It was really nice meeting you, Bella."

"Likewise."

"Maybe I'll see you again sometime."

I nod and smile, watching him walk backwards toward the door. "I'm here every Tuesday and Thursday evening." The words are out of my mouth before I even have a chance to think about them.

His smile grows, and he nods his head before turning and walking out of the store.

I'm not sure what that was, but he's cute, and I think he was flirting with me… and I think I liked it.

**WaS**

"Bella," Mr. Chan greets as I walk in the door.

"Hi, Mr. Chan." I smile, happy to see him.

"You look good. I think you eat better."

I laugh at him, loving the way he says whatever the hell he's thinking. "Are you trying to say I'm fat?"

"No." His brow furrows, and his expression grows serious. "Healthy. Not so pale. Not so skinny."

"Thanks, I guess." I look down at myself, feeling a little self-conscious. I have noticed that my clothes fit a little different. Not too tight, just filled out a little more. And he's right. I have been eating better. Having Alice and Jasper around every evening forces me to eat dinner, and that doesn't usually consist of Ben & Jerry's or Top Ramen.

"Look happy, too."

"I am… I think." The funny thing is that I haven't thought much about it lately. In the month or so since I moved out of the apartment upstairs, my life has been different, busier, not as lonely, and I haven't had a lot of time to think about the bad stuff. Not visiting my mother has helped. I still think about her, and I hope she's doing well, but it feels good to not be weighed down with the guilt she's always made me feel. Not seeing Edward has also helped, but it doesn't mean I don't think about him either. I do. I think about him daily, sometimes hourly. I wonder what he's doing, _how_ he's doing. I wonder if he thinks about me or if I'm just a bad memory. I wonder if I'll ever see him again, and if I do, what will that be like? Does he hate me? I hope not.

"Hot sour soup. Extra wontons," Mr. Chan says, sliding the bowl in front of me. I reach into my bag to get my wallet out, but he stops me. "On the house."

"I'm going to stop coming in here if you won't let me pay."

"You still come here," he says with confidence. "Mr. Chan old. He the boss."

I try to hide my smile, shaking my head at the old man. "Okay."

"Okay."

I sit at the table closest to the window, and I watch people pass by as I eat my soup, occasionally making small talk with Mr. Chan. When I'm finished, I go behind the counter and wash a few dishes and sweep the kitchen.

Mr. Chan tries to argue about my help, but I tell him, "Bella young. She can work."

He chuckles, and I continue sweeping the floor.

**WaS**

"Rooftop barbeque at our apartment Friday night," Rose says as she and I are shelving books. "I already told Alice, but just in case she forgets to mention it."

"That sounds fun. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Just yourself and a friend, if you want." She says that last line like it's part of a conspiracy.

"Nope. No plus-ones for me."

"Alice told me you met a guy at the shop." She huffs and grabs another stack of books.

"Is this why you insisted on coming up here to help shelve books?" I ask, rolling my eyes. I knew there had to be an ulterior motive because Rose hates the stacks. In her words, they're dusty and smelly. She prefers doing the desk work. Alice likes the computer work. And I like shelving books. It's why we work so well together. "He was buying a gift for his mother," I finally tell her, remembering the well-dressed, polite guy who was in the boutique Tuesday night.

"And he was cute."

I feel my cheeks heat up a little. "Maybe."

"Has he been back?" she asks, prying for more information.

"No, but that was only two days ago. I haven't worked again since then." I feel a spark of hope flutter in my stomach, and I frown at myself. Do I want him to come back? I don't think I'd hate it if he did.

"So, maybe tonight?"

"I doubt it, Rose." But I hope so. I think.

"What about Jake?" she asks. "Is he still in the friend zone?"

"Not even in the friend zone," I tell her. I don't elaborate because it's useless to dig up old bones. Plus, I don't know what he's told Emmett, so I just leave it at that.

"So, Emmett shouldn't invite him?"

"I'm not telling you who to invite to your party. I'm only telling you not to invite him _for me_."

"Got it," she says, reaching up high and sliding a book into its spot. "No Jake."

"Thanks." I smile a grateful smile.

"But maybe Anton?" she says, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, my God. You're relentless."

**WaS**

The weather feels good. It's a little hot for New York, but there's a breeze, and the sun is just beginning to set behind the tall buildings of the city.

"Would you like a refill?" Rose asks, holding a pitcher in her hand and nodding to my nearly empty glass of sangria.

"Sure." I stick my glass up in the air. I'm way too comfortable in this lounger to stand up. Rose fills my glass back up and walks over to where a couple of people from Emmett's work are sitting around a small table. The rooftop is awesome. I wonder if Jasper and Alice's building has anything like this. If so, we should be putting it to use. It would make a great reading spot. I'll have to check into that.

The night goes on with simple conversations, good food, and sangria… delicious sangria. Eventually, most of the other guests begin to trickle out, leaving the five of us sitting in a circle, relaxed back in chairs, taking in the night sky.

"Being up here makes you almost forget you're in the city," I say, blocking out the lights with my hands and focusing on the dark expanse above.

"Almost," Emmett says. "If it weren't for all the fucking horns honking and sirens blaring."

"We need earplugs," Jasper says, taking a long pull from his beer.

"Do you miss small town life, Bella?" Emmett asks.

"No," Alice says, answering for me. "She loves it here."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Sometimes, but just for the quiet. I don't miss anything else about it. And I think, now that I've lived here a while, I might actually miss the noise."

"Yeah, it kind of becomes soothing after a while," Alice says.

"I wouldn't know," Rose chimes in. "I've always been a city girl."

Our semblance of quiet is interrupted by the creak of the door. All of us look over to see Jake walking over to us.

"Hey, dude," Emmett says, greeting him with a questioning tone. "What's up?"

"Uh." Jake looks around at all of us and points over his shoulder toward the door. "I was in the neighborhood and remembered hearing you talk about cooking out tonight. Thought I'd stop by."

My heart speeds up when he looks at me. I have no idea where we stand, and the fact that he's standing there acting like he belongs here is making me uncomfortable. I know he's Emmett, and therefore Rose's, friend, but he's not mine. I thought I made it clear the last time we saw each other.

"Bella," he says, nodding his head in my direction.

"Jake," I say coolly.

"I was hoping you'd be here." He walks confidently over to where I'm sitting. "Could we talk?"

I stare at him for a minute, wondering what the hell he's up to and why he wants to talk to me. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it here. We're all friends, right?"

He lets out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sure, of course." His smile might look genuine to most, but I've been around him enough to know that it's anything but. I've put him on the spot. He doesn't like it, but he'll play the part to put up a good front for Emmett.

"I just wondered why you stopped answering my calls and text messages. I miss you." He acts smooth and sincere, squatting down beside my chair and causing my blood to run cold.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't leave any questions unanswered the last time we talked." The pain from my knee connecting with his dick must've worn off, or he's living in some alternate universe where that's considered foreplay.

"Oh, but you did," he says in a low voice. "I wasn't finished."

"But I was." I stand from my chair, needing to feel bigger than him because he's trying to intimidate me, but I won't let him.

"Oh, come on, Bella." He laughs and stands up. "You're going to let one little misunderstanding get in the way of what we had?"

"We had nothing. I told you I just wanted to be friends, but that wasn't good enough for you."

"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa." Emmett gets up from his chair and stands between the two of us. I look around to see the rest of the group watching me and then watching Jake. Alice looks pissed, and Jasper looks like he's ready to offer Emmett backup. Rose has her resting bitchface, so it's hard to tell what she's thinking.

"Dude, if Bella said she only wants to be friends, then you need to back the fuck up." Emmett stays in the middle but keeps his focus on Jake.

"We all know women say that shit because they're afraid of commitment or whatever," Jake says, throwing his hand in the air. "I'm only trying to have a good time, be a good friend."

"That stopped the night you showed up at my building and waited out front for me to come home," I tell him. "Thinking you were going to get lucky." I scoff because there is no way. "And then when I told you to leave, you still stayed." Something happens, and the thoughts in my head get jumbled. I start seeing Jake and then seeing myself, realizing what Jake was doing to me is like what I was doing to Edward. I feel sick. I'm just as bad as him. "I told you to leave."

"What did you do?" Emmett asks, his voice louder, rougher. Jasper stands up from behind me and walks closer. "Did you touch her?"

"No," Jake says, shaking his head. "No! I didn't touch her. She's completely over-exaggerating."

"Did you go to her apartment and wait for her?" Jasper asks, disbelieving.

"Yes, but it was only because Emmett said they'd been out drinking, and I wanted to make sure she got home safely, and then I saw her go…"

"Saw me go where?" I ask, lead filling my stomach.

"I saw you go into his building, the guy from the rehab place."

"So you were following me?" I ask, not believing what I'm hearing but knowing it's the truth.

"I was just looking out for you," Jake pleads, his hands in the air in surrender as Emmett and Jasper stand straighter. "It's not—"

"Don't," Emmett interrupts. "Listen," he says, breathing deep and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't call her. Don't text her. And if I find out you're within a fucking city block of her, I'll personally kick your ass."

"Emmett, man," Jake says, throwing his hands out in disbelief. "You know I'm not like that. She's making this into more than it is."

"I know Bella, and I thought I knew you, but if she says she doesn't want you near her, then that's the final word. Trust me when I say I'll follow through. Don't test me."

"You touch me, and I'll slap a lawsuit on you so fast your head'll spin," Jake spits out.

Jasper and Emmett both laugh, throwing their heads back. "Okay, Jakey-boy. We'll keep that in mind," Jasper says.

Jake turns to leave, swinging the door forcefully, causing it to slam into the brick wall.

"See ya at work Monday," Emmett calls out, the playful tone back to his voice.

"That better be the last you ever see of that douchebag," he says, turning to me. "If he so much as breathes in your direction, I want to know. If you're out somewhere alone and you see him, you call me or Jasper immediately. Got it?"

I nod, feeling Alice and Rose behind me.

"Promise him, Bella," Rose says.

"I promise."

"Good." Emmett finally sits back down. "I'll be having a chat with Mr. Andrews on Monday morning. I think he needs to be filled in on what a grade-A asshole his golden boy is. Thinking he won't take too kindly to it, seeing as he has a few daughters of his own, one of them being a girl Jake used to date."

I have a feeling, one way or another, Emmett is going to make Jake pay. If the swift kick to the dick didn't work, maybe this will. Regardless, I'm relieved that it's out in the open. But the sting of guilt and contradiction is still fresh. I know I apologized to Edward, but I feel horrible for ever getting to that point. Maybe Jake coming up here tonight was the reality check I needed. Not that I've had the urge to ever do that before Edward, and I can't imagine myself stalking someone other than him, but it's not right, and I hate that I did it. Who knows? There might've been hope for us— for some kind of relationship or friendship—but I ruined that with my actions.

If I ever get the chance to feel the way I felt with him again, I won't ruin it. I'll cherish it and do whatever I can to hold on to it.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** Well, hopefully, that's the last we see of Jake the Snake. Good riddance.

 **Jiff:** Yes, Sir Creepsalot needs to GTFO!

Jenny Kate: So, a new guy made an appearance in this chapter. What do y'all think of Anton?

 **Jiff:** I wonder if he's friends with Jake and is now going to start stalking Bella, too?

 **Jenny Kate:** Way to fuel the fire, Jiff!

 **Jiff:** Hey, I was practically falling asleep when I typed that question. It's amazing that I was able to make it make sense!

 **Jenny Kate:** I admit I dozed off in the chair. That's what took me so long to get over here for author's notes.

 **Jiff:** Bitch. I mean, I love you, bitch.

 **Jenny Kate:** This is Jiff and JK on school schedules. It's like we turned into old people.

 **Jiff:** Yeah, it's bad. Maybe we should thank our girls now so we can go to bed.

 **Jenny Kate:** A big thank you to Geekchic12, Pamela, and Rachel! We love y'all more than our luggage!

Hope everyone has a great weekend! See ya Tuesday!


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

"Bella," Alice calls. "You've got mail."

I finish making my bed and toss a few dirty clothes into my hamper by the door before walking out to the living room.

Alice has a large manila envelope held out while she continues to look through the stack of mail.

"It's weird," I tell her, taking it from her and running my finger under the flap.

"What's weird?" she asks, looking up at me.

"I haven't gotten mail in a long time."

"What?" Alice asks, looking at me with a puzzled expression.

"Yeah, I never submitted a forwarding address when I moved because I didn't really have anything important coming through the mail anyway. Living above Mr. Chan's was always supposed to be temporary, but I never had a clear picture of what I'd do after." I pause for a second, thinking about it. "That must be kind of what homeless people feel like. Except I had a bed... and a shower… and hot food. Okay, so maybe not quite homeless, but it's like I've been in limbo since I moved to the city." I shake my head, trying to put my finger on what I'm feeling at the moment, but I can't.

"Well, you're not homeless," Alice assures me. "You can live here as long as you want."

I kiss her cheek before hopping up onto the counter. "Thanks, Alice."

"So, what's in the envelope?"

Pulling the sheets of paper out, I see that it's a letter from one of the colleges to which I applied.

"Dear Isabella Swan," I start, reading it aloud. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for admission to The City College of New York for the Fall 2015 Semester. Due to the quickly approaching semester, you will need to enroll in your classes no later than August 25th. On behalf of The City College of New York and its faculty and staff, we welcome you and look forward to assisting you in your educational endeavors."

"Bella!" Alice exclaims, grabbing my arms and shaking me. "That's wonderful. Congratulations!"

The letter in front of me blurs as my eyes fill up with tears, and I grip the paper tighter.

"Don't cry," Alice soothes. "This is good. I'm so proud of you." The smile on her face is so big and bright that it makes me smile. When I blink, a tear falls down my cheek, and she quickly wipes it away.

"I'm just happy," I say between a sniffle and a chuckle. "Like, really happy." I can't put it into words without sounding stupid or cliché, but I finally feel like my life is starting. "It's something I never thought would happen," I tell her. "Every time I thought about going to college in the past, something shitty would happen to keep me from going. Then I guess I just got complacent."

"Not this time."

"No." Smiling, I shake my head in agreement with her. "Not this time," I murmur as I admire the admission letter, holding onto it tightly. "I already got my financial aid notification, so I just have to enroll in my classes. I already know what I want to take. So, after I get off work, I'll get online and see if they're still available. Hopefully, I'll be completely enrolled by this evening."

"We need to celebrate."

" _After_ I get my classes." I scan over the paper one more time, committing to memory the words on the page. "I don't want to jinx anything."

**WaS**

It's been two weeks since my classes started, and I'm slowly but surely getting into a routine. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I stay late after my shift ends at the library and use the public computers to do my class work. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I work at the boutique, and then I sometimes come here after work to do homework or to use the computers to turn in an assignment.

"Hi, Harry." I wave to the older man who sits at the door of the library. He's a retired cop and reminds me of my dad a little. If he had a mustache and his hair wasn't so gray, he'd really look a lot like him. But then again, if Charlie were still alive, he'd probably have gray hair by now.

The memory assaults me from nowhere, but I love it. I never want to forget. I miss him every day, and I think he'd be proud of me.

No. I _know_ he would.

Waving at Rose, I sit down at the bank of computers and log in with my employee information, gaining access to the internet. I was going to take classes on campus, but I figured with working two jobs and one of them being at the library, it makes more sense to take my classes online.

"Hey, College Girl," Rose says, sitting on the empty desk beside me.

"Hey, Rose." I pull out my textbook and open to the page I read over last night.

"So how's everything going?"

"Good. I think." I laugh. "I'm doing all right. I got my first grade yesterday, and I made an A, but it's still early in the semester."

"Ah, no worries. You're gonna do great." Rose fiddles with the edge of my textbook. "Who knows? If you don't crash and burn, I might go back and finish my degree."

"What?" I ask, leaning back in my chair to get a better look at her. "I thought you graduated."

"Nah. I got close, but Emmett finished a semester ahead of me and landed a kick-ass job, so I quit and started working here."

"What was your major?"

"English Lit," she says, shrugging her shoulders. "I always wanted to work in publishing."

"You should," I tell her, leaning forward and resting my chin on the partition. "You'd be great at that."

She sighs, pushing herself off the desk. "Well, it's up to you, Swan. Let's see if you sink or swim." She winks, and a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"No pressure or anything."

"You've got this."

As she leaves, heading back over to the front desk, I turn around and face the computer. I hope she's right.

**WaS**

The chill in the air and the quickly setting sun is a physical reminder that fall is officially upon us. I love the briskness and the crisp smell in the air, even for New York City. I wrap my scarf around my neck and pull my jacket tighter as I begin my weekly walk to Mr. Chan's. My life has been busy since I started college and working two jobs, but I never let a week go by that I don't keep my promise on these Wednesday evening dinners. I'm not sure who looks forward to it more, me or Mr. Chan.

When I get to the intersection across from the building I used to live in, I can't help but look over to Edward's. I'd love to know how he's doing. A couple of months ago, I would've hated to run into him, but now, when I'm in this neighborhood, I kind of secretly hope for it. I'm sure it'd still be awkward, but I'd love to see him with my own eyes—see if he's okay, see if maybe he forgives me. There are days when I wish I had his phone number. I'm not sure what I'd say if I called, but it'd be nice just to hear his voice. I could go to his apartment and knock on his door, but I'm sure he wouldn't want that.

The truth is, as much as I wish I could make contact with Edward, I have no desire to invade his personal space again.

Looking back, I can see where I crossed the line, and I never want to do that again. But I miss him. That part hasn't changed. There's not a day that goes by when something doesn't remind me of him. Just last week, I was grocery shopping and ended up standing in the ice cream aisle while flashbacks played in my mind like an old home movie.

A few weeks ago, Anton asked me out for coffee, and I accepted. When I sat down at the table, I had total déjà vu. It took me a minute to get my head on straight, so the next time he asked me out for coffee, I suggested we meet for lunch instead. I enjoy the time I've spent with him. It's been casual, friendly, and sometimes, even that reminds me of Edward. But the flock of birds that used to fly around in my stomach when I was near Edward isn't there. And the marching band isn't in my chest. I occasionally feel a slight skipped heartbeat or a blush creep up on my cheeks, but it's different than with Edward—not as intense.

I can tell Anton likes me. I see it in the way his eyes dance when he smiles at me. He opens doors for me and asks about my day. On nights I'm studying at the library, he'll sometimes bring me a hot tea or a cookie. There are no grand gestures or declarations of love, but he's thoughtful and fun to be around.

When I walk into Mr. Chan's restaurant, there's a line of people waiting to order, so I take a seat at my usual table and crack open a book. Of course, I come here for the delicious food as well, but I'll get mine as soon as everyone else has been served. Mr. Chan gives me a smile over the top of the counter and continues taking orders.

After a while, I'm completely engrossed in the text I'm reading when a piping hot bowl of soup slides in front of me.

"Soup for the pretty girl with nose in a book." Mr. Chan's standing there with his hands clasped in front of him and a grin so big it makes his eyes almost disappear. "You study hard."

"I'm trying," I tell him, marking my place with a napkin.

"You do good." He nods his head in his normal confident manner, and it makes me believe him. "Now, eat," he says, patting my shoulder on his way back to the counter, and I do as I'm told.

There's no arguing with Mr. Chan.

**WaS**

The bell above the door chimes, and a gust of cold air follows.

"Hello," I call out from my perch on the stool. Irina doesn't mind me studying when there aren't customers, so I take advantage of my down time at the shop. Surprisingly enough, it's quieter here than at the library, so I usually get a lot of homework done.

"Hey." Anton's tall form looks a little out of place in the shop, just like the first day I saw him. When he sees me, a smile grows on his face, showing his bright white teeth and the slight dimple in his left cheek. He shakes his head of dark hair, and it falls into disarray. "It's raining."

"I can see that," I say, laughing lightly. I feel my fingers twitch when I notice a piece of hair stuck to his forehead. I want to push it back, touch him. It's a new feeling, something I haven't experienced in a while, and not with him.

"I thought I'd stop by and walk you home."

"That's really sweet, but you didn't have to."

"I know, but it's getting darker earlier, and I wasn't sure if you remembered an umbrella."

I look at my watch and see that it's only fifteen minutes to closing time. "Let me start closing down the register."

"I'll wait over here," he says, pointing to a chair by the dressing room. "Unless you have something for me to do."

I twist my mouth into a smile, watching him gingerly slip his damp coat off and fold it over his arm, trying not to get any of the merchandise wet in the process. "No, just have a seat. I'll be ready in a few."

At 8:00 on the dot, we're walking out the back door. Anton holds an umbrella over my head as I twist the key into the deadbolt. "Wanna get something to eat on our way to your apartment?" he asks.

I look up at him and nod. "Yeah, that sounds good. Maybe some soup."

"I know a great place, and it's only a couple blocks from here."

He slips one arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. The smell of clean cotton and woods infiltrate my senses and his warmth makes me want to melt into his side.

A few minutes later, we're seated in a snug booth at a quaint diner, and the waitress has already brought us two cups of tea. Warming my hands around the mug, I'm surprised when I feel Anton's hands wrap around mine. I look up and lock eyes with him.

"You look cold," he says, smiling softly. "Just trying to help you warm up."

"Thanks."

"You're so pretty," he says out of the blue.

"Are you still trying to help me warm up?" I ask, turning my head to hide my embarrassment.

"Yes, but that's not why I said it."

"Thank you." I close my eyes and shake my head.

"I really want to kiss you."

My eyes pop open, but my mouth stays shut. I don't know what to say to that.

"I know we've kept things fairly platonic, but I really like you, Bella Swan. I like the way your cheeks turn pink when I compliment you, and I like the way you bite your lip to hide your smile. I want to kiss those lips so bad I can hardly see straight, but I don't want to mess up what we have. So, when you want to kiss me back, you let me know."

I nod my head and smile at him, pulling my hands away from his to bring my mug up to my mouth. Sipping the tea, I watch him as he watches me, and I feel a flutter in my stomach at the anticipation. Maybe I will kiss Anton, and maybe I'll like it. I guess I'll never know until I try.

**WaS**

"Bella," Alice calls from the living room.

"Yeah," I call back, not wanting to move from my spot on my bed. It's been a long week, and the only thing I want to do tonight is curl up with a book—a real book, not a stupid text book. My first nine weeks of classes has come to an end, and this is how I want to celebrate. Maybe I'll make it a real party and add a pint of Ben & Jerry's.

"Jasper and I are going out," Alice says, standing in the doorway of my bedroom. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"No, you guys go. I'm not leaving this bed until Monday morning."

"Okay. Have fun," she sing-songs and waves her fingers at me as she walks away.

A minute later, I hear the front door close, and I sink deeper into my cozy blanket.

As I'm reading, my phone chimes, and I glance over at it on the nightstand. Anton's name is on the screen with a text message.

 _ **I know you're probably exhausted from your week of work and tests, but I'm offering to take you out and wine and dine you. Don't feel obligated, just an offer.**_

I smile, loving that he's always so considerate.

 **Thank you for the offer, but I'm currently in pajamas with a good book. I'm fairly certain I'll be passed out in less than five pages. I'd be horrible company. Can I take a rain check?**

Less than a minute later, his response comes through.

 _ **You're never horrible company, and I'd gladly let you fall asleep on me. ;) Tomorrow sounds great. Get some rest.**_

I set the phone down and open my book back up. I feel my eyelids getting heavy, but I continue to read until I succumb to sleep.

The ring of my telephone nearly makes me fall off the bed. Blindly, I grab it from the nightstand and see an unknown number on the screen. I think about letting it go to voicemail but decide I should answer it. Rose or Alice may need me… or it could be Anton.

"Hello?" My voice is raspy and full of sleep. I look at the clock and see that it's after midnight, so I've been asleep for nearly four hours.

"Isabella Swan?" a professional sounding lady on the other end asks.

"Yes," I say slowly, my heart pounding from the adrenaline of being awoken.

"This is Mercy Hospital."

My stomach drops, and I can feel the blood rushing to my head as I sit straight up on the side of my bed.

"Miss Swan, your mother was transported via ambulance, and you are her next of kin. We need you to come to the hospital."

I swallow the thickness in my throat. "Is—is she okay?"

"We'll be able to tell you more once you're here."

"Okay, I'm on my way," I tell her, hanging up the phone and immediately looking for my shoes. I know I shouldn't care. This shouldn't be affecting me the way it is, but she's still my mother, and the fear is overtaking me.

I fumble around with my shoes until I finally decide to leave with the laces untied. Grabbing my bag and my phone, I head for the door. When I'm halfway down the street, I realize that I should've left Alice a note, but I don't go back. I'll text her when I get there.

I'm four blocks down the street when I realize I don't even know where I'm going. Stopping at the corner, I pull my phone out and search for the address of the hospital. When it finally loads, I realize I'm over six miles away.

What if she's dead?

They would've told me that, right?

Maybe they can't say that over the phone?

I'm only a block from the nearest subway entrance, so I decide to go there. It's not the fastest mode of transportation, but there aren't a lot of taxis in this area late at night. When I finally figure out what line I should take and buy a ticket, it's already been thirty minutes since the hospital called. The dread and worry churn in my stomach. I hold on to the handle on the subway and count down the stops.

Once I'm back out on the street, I'm practically running down the sidewalk when my feet stumble and I nearly trip and fall.

Fucking shoelaces.

I stop and tie them, then take off jogging toward the large lit up building in front of me. It's like a beacon of hope, but also fear, because I have no idea what I'm getting ready to walk into. Bracing myself on my knees, I take forced deep breaths, trying to calm myself before I go through the doors.

When I finally walk inside, the sterile smell of the hospital makes my stomach turn. The last time I was in an emergency room was the night my dad died. I hate hospitals. The closest I've been to one is the rehab facility. I hate that place too. I start breathing through my mouth, and it helps. Searching the signs on the wall ahead, I see an arrow for the emergency room and decide to start there.

"I'm Isabella Swan," I say to the lady in green scrubs sitting behind the desk. "Someone called me and said my mother was here."

My voice cracks as I talk, but I push the emotions down. I'm not crying. I don't want to cry. I don't even know why I'm here yet. I'll save the tears for when I do.

After a few minutes of flipping through charts, she finally looks up at me and says, "Follow me."

"What's wrong with her?" I ask, needing to know what I'm going to see when I get wherever she's taking me.

"The doctor will bring you up to speed."

I get the feeling she's alive, and I'm trying to decide if I'm relieved or mad or neither when a white curtain opens up, and my mother is lying on the small bed. Her eyes are closed, and there are dark circles under them. Her cheeks look hollow, and her lips are pale, almost blue. I watch her chest closely, waiting to see if it rises. The movement is slight, but I see it.

"She's asleep," the doctor says quietly from behind me. "We're moving her to a room in a few minutes."

"What's wrong with her?" I whisper, wrapping my arms around my waist. In my hurry to get here, I forgot a coat. I'm still in the oversized t-shirt and pajama pants I was wearing.

"She overdosed. We're still running some tests. She was unresponsive when she got here and has been pretty out of it ever since."

"Is… is she…"

"Her liver function is low and her kidneys are a little lazy, but we're hoping once the drugs have left her system, things will start working properly again. We'll know more when the test results are back."

I wipe a tear away angrily.

I hate her for making me feel this way.

I hate her for making me panic and worry and feel scared.

I hate her for making me run through New York City to get to her.

I hate that I still care.

I hate that part of me wishes she would've died.

I hate that the other part of me is happy she didn't.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jiff:** Oh, Renee… *sad face*

 **Jenny Kate:** I'm sure some of you saw this coming, but it still sucks.

 **Jiff:** It does. It sucks for everyone involved.

 **Jenny Kate:** For those who thought that Anton might be a snake in the grass, or close relative/friend of Jerkob's, he's not. He's actually a nice guy. But he's no Edward. ;) I think we all can agree on that.

 **Jiff:** Yes, we received that message loud and fucking clear but, rest assured, he's no Edward for us, either. There's always a reason for characters like his but it's not to get into Bella's pants. Trust.

 **Jenny Kate:** We love that all of you are so invested in this story. The Facebook threads completely make our days! Even if you don't particularly like the characters from time to time, we appreciate that you continue to read and give us feedback. It's what makes this writing process so much fun. So, we love you and we're so so grateful for each and every review, alert, favorite, rec, tweet, etc. *MWAH*

 **Jiff:** And gifs! Don't forget the gifs, Robporn, and memes! We love them all! While we're being extra schmoopy, let's not forget the girls who rock our world. Our beta, GeekChic12, and our pre-readers, Pamela and Rachel, are simply amazing! Team JiffyKate wouldn't be the same without them!

Hope y'all have a great week! We'll see ya Friday!


	19. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 18**

The second I stepped through the doors of the hospital last night, I was flooded with memories of the night my dad died. I hate it now just as much as I did then. The nurse has been nice, bringing me a blanket and pillow to make me more comfortable in Renee's room, but it's not like I can sleep when someone comes in here every thirty minutes or so to check on her.

I've been here for over five hours now, and I can hear the hallway beginning to wake up with the six-o'clock shift change. So far, Renee seems the same to me—unresponsive, frail, pitiful—but I'll have to wait for the doctor to come in during his rounds to give me the official test results from last night.

As I watch my mother, I feel the anger I had tamped down last night resurface. I've tried to focus on just being here—playing the part, being the concerned daughter I should be—but now, in the breaking light of day, I'm finding it hard to stay calm. My mind is a constant jumbled mess of questions.

Why did she have to use again?

What happens now?

Does she go back to rehab or somewhere new?

Does it even matter?

Is she truly suicidal, or did she overdose by accident?

She's been miserable my whole life, but I've never really worried about her killing herself. I was always scared she'd kill someone else with her recklessness.

The door opens, and a man in a lab coat walks in.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Marcus. You're Mrs. Swan's daughter?"

I nod and push myself out of the chair I've been sitting in for the past five hours. My back is tight and sore, as are my legs. Dr. Marcus walks a little closer and takes his hand out of his coat pocket, offering it to me. "Bella," I tell him, shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Bella." He looks down at the chart in his hands and frowns. "Would you mind stepping out in the hall with me for a minute?" he asks, pointing to the door. I nod and follow him out.

"I'm going to be straight with you. It doesn't look great for your mom," he says, speaking in a low, even voice while he looks over the notes. "The results from last night's tests show damage to her liver, and her kidneys are still sluggish. I want to run the same tests later today to see if there was any improvement overnight."

"What does that mean for her? What if the new tests don't show improvement?"

"Well, worst-case scenario is death, obviously. If her organs don't start improving more, she'll most likely need a liver transplant."

I nod my head, trying to absorb his words. How in the hell will we be able to afford an organ transplant? Do they even give those to junkies? I'll have to worry about that later. Renee has to get better first and then we'll cross that bridge when and _if_ we get there.

"Will she go back to rehab?" I ask.

"We have to make sure she's medically stable before she can go anywhere, but yes. Rehab needs to be in her immediate future. It will be different than before, though. She'll be on suicide watch for a while and will have little to no privileges, along with even more intense therapy."

My brain hurts from all this new information, so I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

"I know this is a lot, but we'll take it one step at a time. For now, I'll have a nurse come in and prep Renee for more tests."

I follow Dr. Marcus back into the room and watch as he walks over to Renee. First, he checks her pupils, and then he takes a second to study her IV bag. She still looks pale and frail to me. I can't tell much difference since I first saw her earlier this morning. He writes notes in her file and then walks back toward the door. "It'll be a few more hours before we expect any kind of response from her. Why don't you go home and rest?"

After he leaves, I slump back down in the chair and stare out the window. The anger and frustration I've been battling with since I got the phone call last night is in full swing. The lump in my throat is constricting, and I'm afraid if I breathe, I'll cry. The tear that escapes isn't because I'm afraid to lose my mother. I've never had her. The tear streaking down my cheek is because I'm so angry with her. Just when I'm getting my shit together, she makes a mess of things… again.

A knock on the door makes me jump, and I quickly wipe the moisture off my face.

"Knock, knock."

I turn around to see Alice standing at the door, holding a cup and a brown paper sack.

"I thought you could use some coffee."

"Have I ever told you you're the best friend a girl could have?"

"Yeah, a couple of times," she says, smiling a crooked smile. Alice hates compliments as much as I do. "It was on my way." She shrugs and laughs because we both know that's a lie.

She walks over and sets the coffee and bag down on the window sill, then turns around to lean against it. "She looks rough," she whispers, nodding to Renee.

"Yeah," I tell her, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "The doctor said the tests show that her liver is failing. It's not good."

Alice nods. "The drugs and alcohol were bound to catch up with her at some point." She states the obvious, but I know it's because she doesn't know what else to say. I mean, what is there to say? My mom's a junkie. She probably should've died a long time ago. It's actually kind of shitty when you think about it. Good people die every day, and here she is, still living after taking a ridiculous amount of drugs—an amount of drugs that would've killed most people, but not her. Nope, Renee gets to live.

"What now?" Alice asks, her eyes trained on the tile floor.

"They're running more tests, and when she's stable, they'll move her back to the rehab facility."

"What about you?" she asks, looking up at me. "You've been doing so well, Bella. Don't let this mess up what you've got going."

"I won't. I'm not." I shake my head and pick lint off my pajama pants. "I don't even know what I'm doing here," I say quietly.

"Don't beat yourself up over that either." Alice squats down in front of me. "Do whatever makes you feel better. If you need to be here, then be here, but don't let her pull you down with her." I nod and bite my lip to keep from crying again. "We're all here for you," Alice says. "Rose said to tell you she's sorry, but she hates hospitals."

I laugh and roll my eyes. "Yeah, me too."

"But," Alice says, standing back up and reaching for her bag, "I did bring you some jeans and a t-shirt, and from the looks of it, you could use it. I wasn't sure how long you'd be hanging out here, so I figured you could use a change of clothes."

I take the stack of clothes from her and then pull her into a hug. "Thanks for always thinking of me," I whisper into her hair.

She kisses the side of my head and stands up. "Why don't you walk me downstairs and get some fresh air. I've gotta meet Jasper for breakfast. I promised him pancakes." Alice is good at a lot of things, but cooking isn't one of them.

"Okay." I grab my coffee and reach into the paper bag for the bagel. "Thanks again for this," I tell her as we walk out the door of the hospital room.

Alice loops her arm through mine. "You're welcome."

When we get downstairs, I walk outside with Alice, and we sit on a bench for a few minutes until I finish my bagel.

"Well, I should get going," Alice says, standing up.

"Yeah, I better get back up there."

"Bella?" a voice behind me asks—a voice I haven't heard in so long—and it causes me to freeze. My heart speeds up. My mouth goes dry. I look up at Alice, who is looking over my shoulder, and I can tell by her raised eyebrow that she sees him.

"So, I'm gonna go," she says, leaning in and hugging me tightly. "Is that...?" she asks—insinuating—whispering into my ear, and I nod. I'd know that voice anywhere. "Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"Good luck with that... and go change your clothes," she says, patting my back.

I wince, realizing I'm still in my pajamas. Of course I'd look like shit at this particular moment. I want to beg Alice to stay and be a buffer, but I know she needs to leave, and I can do this. I can. "I'll see you later," I tell her as she walks off, and I slowly turn around to see the face that goes with the voice.

"Hi, Edward."

I watch as he walks over to me, looking like a damn runway model with such unintentional beauty. His hair is longer, a little shaggy even, and… _holy hell_ , is that a full beard? Part of me is pissed he's covering some of his gorgeous face, but the other part is fascinated by the copper-colored whiskers. They look so soft and inviting, making me want to touch.

 _Get yourself together, Bella._

"I'm sorry to show up unannounced, but I just heard about Renee. Is she okay? Are _you_ okay?" His voice is hesitant and unsure, nothing like the Edward I came to know. For a split second, I want to crawl into his arms, force him to take away the pain he caused and make things better—be the Edward who made me forget about the injustices of the world and made it easier to breathe. That Edward was confident and calm, except for the last day I saw him. That day, he was callous and cold.

With that thought, my resolve strengthens.

"I'm fine," I say with a bite. "Renee isn't, obviously. They're running more tests right now, and she's still out of it. If you want to see her, you'll have to wait until this afternoon."

He stands there, staring at me and then to the ground, like he's trying to find the right words to say, so I help him out, make it easier for him.

"Thanks for coming and checking on her, though." There's a finality in my voice. I'm now the one dismissing him, and I see the worry and guilt on his face. I've seen it in the mirror enough to recognize it on other people. I want to ease it, take it away somehow, even though I shouldn't. "I know you're her therapist, and you probably feel guilty, but you shouldn't. No one forced her to take the drugs."

He rakes his hand through his hair before shaking his head. "I do feel guilty. I can't help that part, but I'm not Renee's therapist anymore. I haven't been for a while."

"What do you mean? Is it because she was released to the halfway house?"

"No. It was before that."

I think back to the last family session I attended. It makes me sad to think Edward isn't Renee's therapist anymore. He was so patient with her; I could tell he really cared. An image of the two of us kissing in the therapy room flashes through my mind, and I'm hit with a horrible thought. "Oh, no. Did you get fired? That day… Renee's last family session…" I don't want to bring up the kiss. It's too embarrassing now. "Did I get you fired?"

I have a good mind to find that Blondie Ambition lady and tell her off if I find out she ratted on Edward. _That_ was my fault. I kissed _him_.

"No, Bella. It wasn't anything like that. Jane, the therapist who walked in on us, didn't turn me in, but it was definitely a wake-up call that I desperately needed." He shoves his hands down into the pocket of his jeans, dipping his head and looking back up at me through his long lashes.

"I've taken a sabbatical from work. I just needed some time to get my shit together, you know?"

That confession catches me off guard, and I let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, I know all about that." My voice sounds hoarse from the crappy night I've had.

Edward smiles at me, and it nearly takes my breath away. It's so hard to remain indifferent with him. I feel as though I'm betraying my heart, when the truth is, I'm guarding it. My insides continue to war between loving seeing him again and remembering the hurt. I feel like a rope that's being pulled from both ends.

"Why are you here, then?" I ask. "I mean, now that you're not my mom's therapist."

"Don't misunderstand. I _am_ very concerned about your mom, but when I heard what happened, my first thought was of you." He looks away, biting his lip and closing his eyes before he looks back at me. "I had to make sure you were okay. I wasn't even sure they'd let me up to the room since I'm not her therapist. But I had to try."

I've wanted to have the opportunity to run into Edward for a while, but now that he's in front of me, I don't know what to say or do. "Thank you," is all I can come up with in the face of him telling me he came here for me.

Because… _What?_

"I'm sorry," he says quietly but with conviction, emotion thick in his voice.

It's not like when Heath Wheeler pulled my braids on the playground and Mrs. Smith made him apologize. It's not a casual sorry you give someone you bump into on the street. It's a sorry that comes from deep within your soul—attached to remorse and pain.

I blink and swallow, nodding my head, forcing the lump in my throat to not spill over. "I, uh, I've gotta…" I drift off, pointing behind me to the hospital. "The doctor is, uh…" I take quick, short breaths, trying to keep my emotions in check, but I feel my lip start to tremble, so I bite it hard. I want to run away, but I figure this might be my only chance for an explanation. "What exactly are you sorry for?" I ask, looking up at him. I think I know, and I'm not sure if it makes any difference, but I need to hear him say it.

"I'm, uh…" He pauses, running a hand through his hair and pulling at the ends. "I'm sorry for what I said in the cemetery that day. And I'm sorry for what I did in the window—for shutting you out." He shakes his head and lets out a deep, resolved breath. "I'm sorry for hurting you and for pushing you away. I want to explain, but—"

"I've gotta go," I say, cutting him off, unable to look him in the eye.

"Oh. Okay. Can I come back later to check on you… and Renee?"

 _Yes?_

 _No?_

 _What are you doing to me?_

"I guess." I shrug. "I'm not sure how long she'll be here… or how long I'll be here."

 _Shit._ I don't know what I'm doing here.

"Well, then it sounds like I need to come back sooner rather than later." He gives me a small smile before shuffling backward a few steps and then walking away.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

Thanks so much for reading and thanks to our amazing team: Geekchic12, Pamela, and Rachel! We couldn't do this without y'all.

Hope everyone has a great weekend and we'll see you Tuesday!


	20. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

Renee has slept the majority of the day. The few times she did wake up, she was agitated and groggy, like she was in a daze. The nurse assured me they were side effects from the prescription medication Renee overdosed on, but I wanted to argue that she's like this all the time.

After my run-in with Edward, I was kind of in a daze myself. I don't know what I was thinking. I should've expected him to show up here. Then again, he's no longer Renee's therapist, but how was I supposed to know that? The entire five-minute conversation has left my mind reeling. I've spent half the day sitting in this seat by the window, thinking about every word he said and wondering what he meant by them.

The apology really caught me off guard. I never expected it. I've spent the last few months convincing myself that I deserved what happened that night. I brought it on myself. But that doesn't mean it wasn't cruel and calculated. He meant for me to see that. He wanted me to hate him. But why?

Edward started saying he wanted to explain something, but I couldn't handle any more at that moment. Seeing him was enough. Hearing him say he was sorry was too much. I needed some distance. I needed to keep my resolve. I've wanted to see him and know that he was okay, but then when I had him standing in front of me, I didn't know what to do with him. Kiss him again? That didn't go over well the last time. Punch him? I'm not sure causing him bodily harm would make me feel any better. Actually, seeing the guilt and pain on his face made me hurt.

I don't know if he'll come back.

I don't know if I'll be here if he does.

The sun has begun to set, and the hospital room has grown dim. The only light in the room is the stark white light from the hallway. Resting my head on my knees, I listen to the faint ring of a telephone and the shuffling footsteps of someone walking. Occasionally, I can hear someone calling for help or an incessant beeping from another room. A hospital is not a place of rest.

Looking over at Renee, I get pissed at her all over again for lying there, oblivious to the quiet chaos. It's not fair that she gets to be blissfully unaware. She's why I'm sitting in this hard, uncomfortable chair and why I have a pain that runs from my neck down my shoulder. Her eyelids flutter, and I wonder if she knows I'm thinking bad thoughts about her.

"Bella?"

I glance up to see Dr. Marcus standing in the doorway. He reaches over and flips on a light by the door.

"I have good news," he says, clasping his hands in front of him. "The results show that the liver and kidney function are picking up. As soon as she shows signs of normal activity, we'll be moving her to a regular room and then back to Freedmont. I've already contacted the doctors there to let them know."

I nod, chewing on the inside of my lip. "So, do you need me to do anything?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so." He flips through her chart and then looks back at me. "You should go home and get some rest. We can call you if anything comes up."

"And the transport to Freedmont?"

"The hospital will facilitate that."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He walks back toward the door. "Take care of yourself, Bella."

I sit for a few more minutes, staring at my mother… wondering if she knows she almost died… wondering if she's grateful to be alive. Where did her life go so wrong? Did she have a horrible childhood? What makes someone become a junkie? How bad does life have to get to make you want to escape it through altering your reality? I mean, I'm familiar with escaping reality. I've lived in books my entire life, wishing I could have a different life, living vicariously through princesses and heroines.

My whole life I've worried about becoming like her, but looking at her now, I know that's never going to happen. Alice is right. I could never be like her. I can't sit here any longer. When I move to stand, the legs of the chair screech against the smooth tile, and I pause, hoping I don't wake Renee. I'd like to leave without having to talk to her.

"Bella?" she asks. Her voice is thick and slow.

"Yeah." I pick my bag up off the floor and take a step toward the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I, uh…" I hesitate. The few times she's been coherent since we've been here, a nurse or doctor has been in the room. I'm not sure what to say to her.

"Where am I?" she asks as she struggles to open her eyes.

"You're at Mercy. You had a drug overdose." I decide short and to the point is the best way to go.

"Oh," she says, clearing her throat and shaking her head. "Yeah… I, uh… I forgot."

"You've been sleeping a lot."

"How did you know to come here?"

"The hospital called me."

She doesn't say anything, just lies there staring at the ceiling, and I decide that I've done my duty. I've been here. And now that I know she's going to be okay, I'm leaving.

"Bella?"

I was almost out the door, but I stop and turn, leaning against the jamb.

"Thank you."

I stare at her blankly. I haven't heard those words from her very many times in my life.

"I know you didn't have to come here, and I know I've been a shitty mother. So, thank you."

"Yeah, well, I've gotta go. I have some homework I still have to finish before Monday."

"Homework?"

"I'm going to college now."

"Oh, Bella," she says, her voice changing from being raspy due to her sleeping so much to being full of emotion. I'm sure that's the drugs too. "I'm so proud of you," she says, sniffling.

"Well, I just started, so…"

"That's really great. Charlie would be so proud," she whispers, and I look up to see tears streaming down her face. She doesn't make any move to stop them or wipe them away. "He would hate me right now."

I don't know how to respond to that. She never brings up my dad. I kinda thought she forgot about him, or was trying to.

"It's not your fault, you know?" Her words crack and break. "This," she says, motioning to herself and the room. "None of this is your fault." I don't know if I want to hear what she has to say, but I stand there and listen anyway. "Your father… oh, God. He was such a good man. And he somehow saw good in me." She pauses to wipe her nose on the sheet, but the tears continue to fall, and she continues to talk. "He helped me get clean. It worked for a while, but I just couldn't do it, because I'm weak." She points to herself and sits up in bed as much as she can. "He was the strong one, but not me. I needed him. And when I got pregnant with you, he thought that was the answer. He thought having you would keep me clean." She manically laughs through the sobs, and I stand there trying to grasp what she's saying. "So, see? It was never your fault. It's always been mine. I did this."

"I…" I swallow hard and feel my own tears sting my eyes. My chest heaves with pent up emotion, and I can't stay here any longer. I need fresh air—air that isn't polluted by hospital stench. So I turn and leave, walking quickly toward the elevator. I can hear her crying when the doors close. As soon as they open back up, I walk as fast as I can down the long corridor and then finally outside.

With my hands on my knees, I take about a dozen deep breaths, letting the cold night air soothe me so I don't pass out.

"Bella?"

 _Oh, God. I can't. I seriously can't take any more today._

Instead of standing up, I keep my head down until I see his feet standing next to me.

"Are you okay?" he asks tentatively.

"I honestly don't know," I admit, feeling a bit out of control of my emotions… of my life.

Edward squats down, and I can see his knees and his hands, but thankfully, his face is still hidden from my sight. I need that reprieve because I don't know if my resolve is strong enough for his face.

"Is Renee okay?" he asks, and I can tell he's not sure if he wants the answer to that question. He probably thinks she's dead by my behavior.

"She's gonna live."

I hear him take a deep breath and exhale.

"Can I do anything for you?"

Before I can answer him, my phone rings from my bag, but I ignore it. It's probably Alice, and I'll call her when I get on the subway.

"I just needed some fresh air," I tell him, finally standing up when I feel strong enough. But the blood rushing from my head back to my feet makes me feel dizzy, and I stumble. Edward's hand reaches out, steadying me, and I simultaneously want to flinch and melt into his touch.

"I've gotta go," I tell him, pulling my arm away. "It's getting late, and I've gotta take the subway."

"We could share a taxi," he suggests. "That would give us a chance to talk…" He drifts off as my cell phone rings again.

I dig into my bag, but by the time I find the phone, it stops ringing. "Listen, I really have to go—"

"Bella, wait—"

When my phone rings for the third time, I answer it. Sometimes, Alice is relentless.

"I'm on my way home, Alice," I say, feeling annoyed with the overly persistent phone calls.

"It's Anton,"the voice on the other end says apologetically.

"Oh. Hey, Anton." I add as much sweetness to the greeting as I can muster.

"I thought we were going to hang out tonight. You gave me a rain check, remember?"

 _Shit._

"I, uh… I'm really sorry. My mom has been in the hospital." I look up to see Edward's eyes boring into me. One of his hands is gripping the back of his neck, and the other is stuffed down into the pocket of his jeans, but it's the furrowed eyebrows at which I can't stop staring.

"Your mom lives in the city?" Anton asks, and I realize I've never told him anything about my mom… or my dad.

"Uh, yeah. Can I call you back in a little bit?"

"Sure. Do you need anything? A ride? Food?"

"No. I'm, uh… I'm fine. I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay. Be careful going home... And I'm sorry about your mom."

"I will. Thank you."

I hang up the phone and put it back in my bag.

Edward shifts his feet and folds his arms over his chest. The intense look on his face is still there—eyebrows pinched together, jaw tight. "Can I stop by your apartment sometime?" he asks. "Just for a few minutes. I have some things I need to say."

"I don't live there anymore," I blurt out. I want to tell him actions speak louder than words, and I got the message, loud and clear. I want to tell him pieces of my heart are still broken and shattered on that apartment floor, but that would make me sound weak, so I don't say anything.

He nods and licks his bottom lip. His hand runs back through his hair, causing it to stick up in every direction, and I watch his face morph from intense to pained as sadness sets in. "Please."

Something about that word and that look makes me give a little. Maybe listening to what he has to say wouldn't be the worst thing ever. "I go to Mr. Chan's every Wednesday night. You could meet me there." I regret the words as soon as they're out of my mouth, but the grateful smile he gives me makes it worth it.

"Wednesday," he says. "I'll be there."

"Okay."

"Be safe," he calls after me, and I wave without looking back because that resolve can be a tricky son of a bitch. It slips when you least expect it.

Walking quickly, I make my way to the subway terminal.

Twenty minutes later, I finally walk through the door of the apartment and let out a sigh of relief. I want to sink to the floor, but somehow I make it to my bedroom. Flipping on the lamp beside my bed, I see that Alice left a note sitting on top of a stack of clean clothes.

 _We went out for a late dinner, but call me if you need to talk. There's leftover pizza in the refrigerator._

 _Love you, Alice._

I'd like to talk to Alice and kiss her for the pizza and clean clothes, but it can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I just need a shower and my bed.

When I get out of the bathroom, my mind is on Edward and the whirlwind that has been my life the last two days. I'm drying my hair with a towel when I hear my phone buzz.

 _ **Making sure you made it home safely. Call me if you need to talk.**_

And then there's Anton.

Falling back on my bed, I crawl up to the pillow.

 **I'm home. Thanks for checking on me.**

 _ **Get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow.**_

Sleep is easier said than done. Even though I'm exhausted, both physically and mentally, my mind is running crazy with questions and worries.

I lie in the dark, allowing scenarios and what-ifs to run rampant through my mind. Picking up my phone, I send another text.

 **Can't sleep.**

 _ **Wanna meet for coffee?**_

I check the time, and it's almost 10:30. But it's Saturday night, and I have all day tomorrow to catch up on sleep. Maybe coffee and a conversation with Anton is just what I need.

 **I'll meet you at the corner by the library.**

 _ **I'll meet you in front of your apartment in fifteen minutes.**_

I smile and roll my eyes.

 **It takes you twenty to get here.**

 _ **I'm already on my way.**_

Sighing, I toss the phone on my bed and climb out. I pull on the jeans I had on along with a clean t-shirt and a sweater from my drawer. Instead of a jacket, I find a scarf and a hat. The beanie will keep me from worrying about how bad my hair looks. After I brush my teeth and put on some shoes, I head for the front door.

When I get on the elevator, I shoot Alice a quick text telling her thank you for the clean laundry and to let her know I'm meeting Anton. She replies within seconds, telling me to be safe and that we need to talk. I knew that was coming.

I can feel the cold air through the draft in the door of the lobby, and I'm second guessing my choice of only a sweater and a scarf. At least the coffee shop isn't far, and we'll warm up once we're there. Anton is waiting just outside the front door and turns with a smile that immediately makes me forget I'm cold.

"I was hoping you'd reconsider." He smiles and wraps his arms around me without hesitation. I want to sink into his warmth—absorb it and breathe it in. "Rough couple of days?" he asks with his lips pressed to the top of my head.

"If by rough you mean riding in a speeding car and hitting every pothole along the way, then yeah, it's been rough. I think I might have whiplash."

Anton rubs my back, and I think just standing here in front of my building would be enough. We can skip the coffee. I already feel more relaxed, and we've only exchanged three sentences.

"How about that coffee?" He pulls back and looks at me. I see the care and concern in his eyes, but something about them being brown seems all wrong. I want to go back to hugging, so I bury myself in his side as we begin to walk.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Is she really sick?" he asks. "Is it something serious?"

His questions highlight the fact that although Anton knows a lot about me, there's still so much he doesn't know. And those parts are hard to tell someone like him. His life is perfect. He's perfect. I feel like telling him about all the junk from my life would tarnish him.

"She's going to be okay." It's the truth. That's what the doctor said. Renee gets to live another day.

Whether or not I'm going to be okay remains to be seen.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Our biggest apologies for getting this posted so late in the day; and our biggest thanks to our team: Geekchic12, Pamela, and Rachel! Also, a special thank you to Hadley Hemingway for her professional advice. We appreciate all of you so much!**

 **We love you guys! Thanks for being so patient with us. We'll be back with our regular A/Ns on Friday!**


	21. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 20**

"So," Alice says as we're walking down the sidewalk, and I already know where this is going. I got in late last night after meeting Anton for coffee, and we haven't had a chance to talk about Renee or Edward.

"So?"

"Did Renee get a miracle, or what?"

I let out a deep sigh. "Something like that. The doctor said she's going to recover, and she'll be transported back to rehab."

"Did you talk to her?"

"Yeah, she woke up just as I was leaving."

"What did she say?"

I pull my scarf up a little higher to block the early morning chill. "She started crying."

"Of course she did." Alice knows all of Renee's tricks.

"But this time was different. She told me all about how she was too weak to stay clean when my dad got her off the drugs." I pause, reflecting on her words and how emotional she was. A lump forms in my throat, but I push it down. "She said my dad thought that having me would help her stay clean, but it didn't work." We stop outside the door of the coffee shop, and Alice waits while I finish. "I didn't think it mattered… I didn't think I cared what she thought or what the truth was, but something about hearing her admit that it wasn't my fault—hearing her own up to her shit—" I let out a shaky breath, and Alice pulls me to her.

"She owed you that a long time ago," Alice whispers. "She should've never put that kind of guilt on you. It was never you."

Deep down, I knew that, but I realize I needed to hear it directly from Renee all along. A few tears stream down my cheeks, and they feel cathartic, like they're taking all the guilt with them as they fall.

"And what about Mr. Window Fucker?" Alice asks.

I can't help the snort-laugh that comes out of me. "Oh, God, Alice." I groan and wipe the moisture from my cheeks before we go inside.

"Was it that bad?" she whispers as we stand in line to order.

"No." I shake my head, trying to find the right words. "It was awkward and… good, I guess. I mean, it's not like we talked about a lot, but it was just good to see him."

The guy in front of us finishes ordering, and Alice steps up to the counter, placing both of our orders.

"Do you still have feelings for him?"

"I think about him. A lot. Even though I try not to," I admit. "But I don't feel like following him home or to work or anything crazy like that."

"Good, because I'm not sure if prison orange is your color. And I like being able to hug you as much as I want."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I laugh.

After we get our two lattes, we head out the door toward the library, continuing our conversation where we left off.

"I'm not going to let you be a stalker," Alice says. "That shit gets you sent up the river and you only get two hugs during visitation—one on arrival and one on departure."

I roll my eyes at her, laughing again. I have no idea what she's talking about, but I agree with her. "Right, no stalking."

"Good. Now, what did the fucker have to say?"

"His name is Edward."

"Okay, what did _Edward_ have to say?"

"He apologized."

"Really?" she asks like it's a foreign idea.

"Yes."

"Do you think he meant it?" The skepticism is written all over her face.

"Yeah," I tell her. "I do."

I'm still trying to put all of this together in my mind, still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that he actually showed up… and that he showed up for me… and that he said he was sorry. I'll never forget the expression on his face when he said it.

"So, what else did he say?"

"Just that he wants to talk. He has something he wants to tell me."

"Do you want to talk to him?"

"I guess. I don't know." I groan in frustration. "It's complicated. I've spent the last few months working through whatever that was with him, and I've wished for a do-over, but what he did and said hurt me... so much. I don't know if I'm ready for more of that."

"Well, you won't know unless you give him a chance to explain. It could be good closure, if nothing else. Did you make plans to meet up with him?"

"Yeah, at Mr. Chan's on Wednesday."

"That's good. Home turf advantage. I like it," Alice says.

"Yeah, I guess."

"What about Anton?" she asks. I know she's just doing what friends do and trying to help me work through shit, but all of these questions are only reminding me of how chaotic everything is all of a sudden. A few days ago, I was feeling settled. I had my college courses, my jobs, and occasional dates with Anton. Life was starting to feel easy for once. And now...

"I don't know, Alice," I tell her, letting out something between a laugh and a cry. "Sometimes… sometimes, I feel like I'm driving down a road with a blindfold on. I can't see where I'm going, and it's scary."

"That's life," she says as we walk up the steps of the library. "The important thing is that you're _driving._ " She stops when we get to the top and grabs me by my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. "You're not sitting on the side of the road, and you're not watching life pass you by. You're going somewhere. Blindfold or not, you're gonna make it. And I know it feels scary, but scary isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, scary is good."

"You're right. I know you're right." I sit up straight and wipe my face one last time. No more tears. It's time to embrace my life and live it, not hide away in the shadows.

"Look at you, Bella Swan, two men _vying_ for your attention," she says, donning a southern accent. "I do declare."

"Oh, God, Alice. It's too early for that _Gone With the Wind_ shit."

We're both laughing as we walk inside.

"All I'm saying," Alice continues, " is I know this thing with Edward seems like it was doomed from the get-go, but don't shut him out. A broken heart is something that heals over time, but regret stays with you for the rest of your life."

"You sound like one of those Daily Inspiration calendars."

"I'm like your own personal Dear Abby."

**WaS**

After work on Wednesday, I take a quick shower before getting dressed in a tunic and a pair of tights. Even though I'm technically meeting Edward for dinner, I refuse to think of this as a date. We're just two people sharing a meal and conversation. Nothing to freak out about.

Who am I kidding? There are a ton of things to freak out about, but I'm trying really hard to stay calm.

Edward is my chocolate. He's the forbidden food—something I've denied myself.

Now that he's back, I don't know how to act or how I hope _he'll_ act. I don't want him to be completely different from before, but I also don't want him to charm me back to my old habits. I've made good changes in my life since he shut me out of his. Is there a possibility we can have some kind of new middle ground? One where he's changed some of his behaviors and I can accept him without becoming a crazy-ass psycho?

I guess I'll soon find out.

The walk to Mr. Chan's feels too long yet not long enough. Part of me can't wait to get there, and the other part of me wants to stall. My heart flutters in my chest with nervousness and anticipation.

What does he want to tell me?

What made him come find me?

What's changed for him?

Surely he didn't seek me out just to deliver more soul-crushing truth. Right? He's never seemed like that kind of guy. Even when he was telling me goodbye, I could see the pain and hurt on his beautiful face. I know there's more to Edward Cullen than what meets the eye.

He's already apologized; another thing I definitely didn't see coming. All this time, I've felt like I was in the wrong. Thinking back on my actions made me feel like I deserved the consequences. I forced myself into his life, and he had every right to shut me out. Now, I see where we were both in the wrong, just two people struggling with the life they've been dealt. We definitely didn't handle ourselves in the best way. Hopefully, this can be a new start, or at least allow us both to walk away with a clear conscience.

Taking a deep breath, I hold it and then slowly let it out as I open the door of the restaurant.

Nervously, I dart my eyes from the ground to the counter where Mr. Chan is handing over a bag of food to a lady in a red jacket. His eyes light up when he sees me, and I smile at him. Then I feel Edward, or his gaze at least. I look over toward the small table we sat at the first time we saw each other here, and he stands from his chair, shoving his hands down into the pockets of his jeans.

"Hey," I say, walking up to the table.

"Hello," he replies. I notice that he shifts on his feet and pulls his hands out of his pockets, hesitating. His expression is full of questions, kind of like my mind on my walk over here.

"Have you ordered?" I ask, hoping to break some of the awkward tension.

"Uh, no. I was waiting…"

 _Did he think I wouldn't show?_

"Well, I always eat here on Wednesdays. Mr. Chan would be offended if I didn't eat." I smile and let out a light laugh.

"We wouldn't want that," he says, trying to keep from smiling.

"No," I reply, shaking my head. "I'd never want to be on Mr. Chan's bad side."

"It's a bad place to be." He chuckles and runs his hand through his hair, making a mess of it like I've seen him do so many times. It's a perfect mess… kind of like him.

"How would you know?"

"I've been there. Don't want to go back."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah." He bites down on his lip and nods his head. "The first time I stopped by here after…" He stops and motions with his hand, and I know what he means. After us. After whatever we were ended. "Anyway," he continues, "he wasn't going to give me any soup."

I laugh, and it's not a dainty, girly laugh. It's a boisterous, head-tossed-back laugh. "Are you kidding me?"

"No."

"So, what did you do?"

"Well, he finally caved and gave me some, but I swear, it was the hottest fucking soup I've ever eaten."

"Oh, my God." I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from repeating the loud laugh and drawing more attention to us. Looking over my shoulder, I see the old man watching us with a scowl on his face. Maybe meeting at Mr. Chan's wasn't such a good idea after all.

"But you better believe I ate the entire bowl. And left a hefty tip. The next time I came in, it was a little less spicy than the time before but definitely had a kick." Edward smiles and shakes his head. "I figured it was my penance for…" Again, he drifts off, not wanting to say what I know he means. "For hurting you."

I press my lips together, not sure of how to respond to that. "Does he still give you hot soup?" I ask.

"No… no, it's back to normal. Took a while, but my mouth is no longer on fire when I leave."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

We stand there for a minute, and it's awkward but good. His lips finally turn back up into a smile. "We should order." He motions toward the counter where no one is in line.

Mr. Chan is working on something behind the counter but looks up every few seconds. His eyes shift between me and Edward, and I know he's trying to decide what this is and why we're here together. I wish I could tell him.

"Hello, Mr. Chan."

"Bella," he says, nodding. "How's classes?"

"Good. I still haven't gotten my grades back from the tests last week, but I think I did well."

"You study hard. You get good grades."

"I hope so."

"Why he here?" he asks, making my cheeks heat up instantly. "It Wednesday, not Thursday." He looks around me and directly at Edward. "You come Thursdays."

 _What?_

"I know," Edward says, stepping up beside me. "But Bella asked me to come."

"I did," I tell Mr. Chan.

"Mmmmm," Mr. Chan says, giving Edward a squinted stare-down. "What you want?"

"Soup with extra wontons," I tell him.

"Soup for me too," Edward says. "I'm buying."

"No," I tell him, turning and frowning. "I'll buy my own."

"Let him pay," Mr. Chan says while he dishes up two bowls of soup without taking his eyes off Edward. "No extra wontons for you."

I don't even know what to say to that, so I stand there, dumfounded. I watch as Edward hands him the money for our food, and then I watch as he carries it back to our table. I'm still watching as Edward pulls out my chair and turns to find me still standing by the counter. The small smile he gives me finally pulls me out of my stupor, and I walk over and sit down.

"So, you're taking classes?" Edward asks after a few minutes.

"Yeah."

"That's great, Bella." He wipes his mouth with his napkin, and his eyes light up, the dazzling blues showing off. "Do you know what your major's going to be?"

"No, I'm just taking my gen ed courses for now."

"I'm proud of you."

I set my spoon down in my bowl and watch him. _He's proud of me?_ He's proud of me. I think that makes me feel better than when my mother told me the same thing a few days ago, and I don't know what that says about me. But I like that Edward is proud of me.

"Thank you."

"And you moved?"

"Yes."

He nods his head and takes a big drink of water.

"Is your soup really hot?"

Coughing a little, he laughs. "No." The smile he gives me is contagious, and I find myself smiling too. "It's perfect, actually."

We sit there for a few more minutes, eating in comfortable silence. I watch people out of the large window, and occasionally, I watch Edward. I can tell he's shaved a little since I saw him at the hospital. His beard isn't as long, and it's more… maintained? He looks happy. The last few days that I saw him before everything blew up in my face, he always looked tired and stressed, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. I like this Edward better.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" I ask, trying not to sound annoyed or mad because honestly, I'm just curious. It's been eating at me since Saturday night. I've lost hours of sleep thinking about it.

Edward clears his throat and pushes his mostly eaten bowl of soup to the side, leaning on the table.

And now I'm watching the way his shirt tightens around his biceps and remembering what they looked like…

 _Stop it, Bella._

"I wanted you to know that I've been going to therapy."

I nod my head and feel a pang in my chest. Edward is going to therapy? But he's the therapist.

"I know what you're thinking. I'm the therapist. I should have my shit together." He smirks and shakes his head. "But the thing is, a lot of times, therapists have their own issues." He lets out a deep breath and looks away, like he's gathering his thoughts. "There's usually a reason a person decides to be a therapist or a psychologist or any other type of doctor, and that reason is usually something personal. Most of us have been through a lot of the shit we counsel our patients through."

"Like your dad being an alcoholic and your mom leaving?" I ask, remembering the day in the coffee shop when he confided in me and how close it made me feel to him… how badly I wanted to wrap my arms around him and take away all the hurt and pain he'd felt.

"Yeah, like that. There's a lot of shit in my life that I should've gotten help with a long time ago, but it wasn't until you…" He hesitates but then seems to gain some determination and continues. "When I realized you'd been watching me, I felt humiliated. Had it been anyone else in the world, I wouldn't have cared. Obviously, I wasn't trying to hide my actions. But the fact that it was you… It made me feel horrible. And that last night, after we talked, when I... " Letting out a deep, frustrated breath, he rubs his face with his hands and then through his hair. "I was only trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"From me, Bella. From me." He lowers his voice, but there's so much emotion laced through those words that it makes my heart physically ache. He swallows hard and takes a second to compose himself. "I've only loved two women in my life."

I look up and see him looking at me. His eyes bore into mine.

"One was my mother." He pauses but keeps his eyes trained on mine. "And she left."

My fingers itch to slide across the table and touch his, but I don't let them.

"The other was…" He stops, exhaling a sad sigh. "She was my best friend. We grew up together; made it through hard shit together. We did everything together. We depended on each other, stood up for each other, protected each other. And then... she left. The one thing she did without me couldn't be taken back. She promised me she wouldn't... and then she did. I couldn't fix her… couldn't help her. She left."

The way he speaks of the other person, his best friend, it makes me feel like she's gone. He didn't say she died, but the finality in his voice is palpable. I feel the stutter in my breathing and then the burning in my eyes, but I blink a few times and will myself to hold it together. I can cry later.

"I felt myself falling for you," he whispers, sliding his hand across the table and resting it on top of mine. "I felt like if I loved you, you'd leave."

"You were falling for me?"

I messed that up. Or maybe he messed it up? Maybe we both messed it up.

"I was." He nods confidently.

 _Was._

"Did I mess that up?"

"What?"

"Me. I messed that up. I followed you and invaded your personal space." My heart beats faster as I recall past encounters with Jake. "I know what that's like, and it feels awful and scary. I… I was just lonely, and you were… You were there, even when you didn't know it, even when I didn't know you. And after I met you, I didn't want to mess it up, but I did anyway by not telling you." I sniffle because that no-crying thing didn't work. "I'm sorry I did that."

"You already apologized, and I'm not mad."

I can see it on his face. He means it. His eyes are so soft. When he blinks, his eyelashes touch his cheeks. They look soft too. Even the light hair on his face looks soft.

"Thanks for telling me why you did what you did," I say.

"Thanks for listening."

"I'm so sorry they left you." I know how that feels, people have left me too.

"Bella, I know this doesn't explain everything, but I will get there, if you'll give me a chance."

"Is therapy helping?"

He smiles for the first time in a few minutes. "Yeah. I think so… hope so."

"That's good."

There are still so many things unsaid, but this is a beginning… a start. And for the first time since we met, or since I saw him, there aren't any secrets.

Secrets are shit. Secrets mess everything up.

"So, you come here every Thursday?" I ask, and he smiles like the cat that ate the canary.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

Once again, we're under the gun to get this chapter posted! GAH! It's been a crazy week. BUT, it's Friday, so at least there's that.

We appreciate all of you so much! Thank you for reading our story and for leaving us reviews. We love reading your reactions to these characters. Also, a BIG thank you to our beta, Geekchic12, and our pre-readers, Pamela and Rachel. Y'all really came through for us this week! We love y'all so much!

Hope everyone has a great weekend and we'll see you on Tuesday!


	22. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 21**

"Freedmont Rehabilitation. How can I direct your call?"

"Uh, this is Isabella Swan. I'm calling to speak with Renee Swan."

"Identification number, please."

I give her the number and wait. The elevator music is practically putting me to sleep when she finally comes back on the line.

"Mrs. Swan is not taking phone calls at this time."

"Oh… uh, okay. Well, can you tell her that her daughter called?"

"I can leave a message with her counselor."

"Thank you."

I hang up and sit down on the step outside of the library. Did she choose to reject my call? I called once last week, and they told me she couldn't have calls until she was moved to a regular room, which would happen this week. I guess I could go see her, but I'm not sure if I want to. I just want to make sure she's okay. Does that even matter anymore? I don't know.

Letting out a sigh, I stand and walk back into the library.

"You look like you just spilled your latte," Rose says as I sit in the chair beside her at the front desk. "What's up?"

"Nothing," I say, shaking my head. "Just tried to call and check on Renee, but she wouldn't take my call."

"Her loss."

"Yeah."

"Seriously, Bella. You've gone above and beyond for that woman."

I begin working on a stack of books that need to be scanned. I don't expect Rose to understand. Hell, I don't even understand. I've let the guilt go, or I'm trying, but it doesn't mean I don't care. For all the same messed up reasons as before, one of those being the fact that she's still my mother, I need to know she's okay.

"So, what's up with you and your love triangle?" Rose asks without looking up from her work.

"It's not a love triangle." I snort, shaking my head, because it is _so_ not a love triangle. There's no love involved. No one has said anything about love except Edward, when he alluded to the fact that he was falling for me. _Was_. Past tense.

"Okay," Rose says, sliding her glasses to the top of her head and swiveling around in her chair. "How are you dealing with Edward being back in the picture? Are you still seeing Anton? Do they know about each other?"

She arches one of her well-groomed eyebrows and crosses her arms over her well-endowed chest, waiting for me to answer.

"Edward and I are talking. Or... we talked. He wanted a chance to explain his actions, so I listened. We both apologized for the shit we did and the damage we caused, and that's it." With an exhale, I lean back in my chair before continuing. "Anton is a good friend. And no, they don't know about each other."

"But you were starting to have feelings for Anton, and you've never stopped having feelings for Edward. Am I right?" she asks.

"Yeah, I guess."

"So, you're going to have to decide what it is you want… or who."

I turn back around and busy myself with books. I know Rose is right, but honestly, I'm not used to having a choice. And is it really my choice? I don't even know if Edward still feels the way he once did. During our conversation, all he said was that he _was_ falling for me. Then things got ugly, and he pushed me away. I know he said he was sorry, but sorry doesn't mean he wants a relationship with me. And Anton… I don't know. I like being around him, and he makes me feel better, but I don't know if those types of feelings are enough. Do I love him? No. Could I love him? I don't know.

Do I love Edward?

No.

Could I love Edward?

Yes.

I don't even have to think about it. That answer is yes.

**WaS**

On my way to Mr. Chan's, I feel a few flutters in my stomach when I think about Edward possibly being there. He didn't say he'd come this week. But he knows I'll be there, so I guess I'm hoping he'll come. Okay, no guessing about it… I'm hoping he'll come.

When I get to the corner where I can see his building, for the briefest moment, I glance up. I can't see his floor from here. The building between his and Mr. Chan's blocks my view, but I wonder if he's there.

The light turns green, so I hurry across the street and into the restaurant. As I open the door, I scan the room, looking for the mess of bronze hair, but it's not there. Not at the small table by the window. Not at the counter.

There's a man and a woman sitting at the table closest to the door and a guy ordering, but that's it.

My heart sinks a little.

"Come in, Bella," Mr. Chan demands from behind the counter. "You let heat out."

"Sorry," I call out, letting the door close behind me. I didn't realize I was still holding it open.

"You need soup today," he says, scooping up a bowl without asking.

"Yes," I tell him, smiling at his old man ways—always so bossy, saying exactly what he's thinking. "It's freezing out there."

"You need gloves."

Now that he mentions it, my hands feel like ice cubes. It turned cold so fast I haven't had a chance to dig through my box and look for the old black pair I've always used. I blow on my hands to warm them up.

"You need hot tea too." He hands me a tray with a bowl of soup, extra wontons, and a piping hot cup of tea.

"Thank you, Mr. Chan."

He smiles. "How's classes?"

"Good," I tell him, remembering the sheet I printed out from my computer. I pull it out of my bag and hand it over to him. "All As. See?"

His round cheeks push up to his eyes, nearly closing them all the way, and his mouth twists into a tight smile. He pauses for a moment, looking over the paper. "Very good, Bella." Mr. Chan nods. "Very good."

"Thanks." I can't hide the smile. It feels good. The first nine weeks were a hard adjustment, but these grades prove that hard work pays off.

I sit down in my usual spot and begin eating my soup. It's hard for me not to dwell on the fact that Edward didn't show, but maybe he had things to do… or maybe he forgot.

After I finish eating, I pull out a book and begin reading. Lately, I've had so much school work that I haven't been able to read for the fun of it. So I decided to reward myself for my good grades by bringing a book instead of school work to Mr. Chan's.

I'm lost in prose when a figure standing close to the window catches my eye.

I do a double take, realizing Edward is standing there, watching me.

He smiles.

I smile.

He motions with his head for me to come out.

I look around and see that the restaurant is empty. It's already dark outside. Mr. Chan is whistling while he cleans in the kitchen, and I feel bad for leaving him. I usually stay to help clean up. Gathering my bowl and mug, I pick the tray up and carry it to the counter. "Mr. Chan," I call out.

"Just leave it on counter."

"Do you need some help tonight?"

"No, too late. You hurry home," he says, peeking his head around the corner. "See you next Wednesday."

"Okay."

He goes back to cleaning, and I go back for my book and my bag.

Edward is still standing outside the window when I walk out the door.

"Are you stalking me?" The words are out before I even have a chance to think about what I'm saying. I cover my mouth with my hand, and my eyes grow wide.

Edward's face cracks into a wide smile, and then he's laughing so hard his head is thrown back, exposing his neck. I laugh too, uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry," I finally manage to say. "I… I didn't mean it like…"

"The look on your face," Edward wheezes. "Cutest fucking thing I've ever seen."

"Sometimes, I wish I could take the words that leave my mouth and cram them back inside."

"Please don't." He shakes his head and wipes his watery eyes. "I love the way you say things without thinking."

I clear my throat and bite down on my lip to keep from smiling. "Yeah, well, it makes me look like an idiot sometimes."

"Who cares?"

He smiles, but this time it's different. It's like he's smiling just because he's really happy. It's one of those smiles people give when they're in the exact place they want to be.

"Yeah, who cares?"

"Can I walk you home?"

"What? No, you don't want to do that. It's a long walk."

"That's okay. I've got time."

"Okay," I tell him. I want to say more, but okay will have to do for now.

We walk down the sidewalk, leaving a few inches between us, except for when a group of guys crowds us and forces us into each other. Edward's hand goes to the small of my back, and even through my jacket, I can feel the heat from his touch.

Once we're on a less crowded portion of the street, we begin making small talk about the weather and people we pass. It reminds me of how easy it is to talk to Edward, and I'm grateful he's here.

"This is the boutique I work at on Tuesday and Thursday evenings," I say as we pass by Irina's.

"You have two jobs?" he asks, pausing to look inside the window.

"Yeah, living in the city isn't cheap. And I'm trying to save money for my own place one of these days. I can't live with my friends forever."

"So, that's where you moved?" he asks, and I realize there's a lot he doesn't know—people he doesn't know. I want him to know them.

"Yeah, Alice and Jasper gave me a sweet deal on a bedroom." I look over at him and smile.

Edward looks back at me with a smirk. "Look at you, Bella Swan… working two jobs, going to school."

"Yeah," I sigh. "I thought about leaving, you know."

It takes me a second to realize that Edward has stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I turn around to see him standing there with a somewhat shocked expression on his face.

"What?" he asks, looking at me intensely.

"Yeah, um… After what happened at the therapy session, and then that day at the church… I just felt like my life was out of control, and I didn't know how to take it back. I wanted out… out of the city and my life."

"But you stayed. What made you change your mind?"

"My friends, Alice and Rose. They convinced me to stay; that there wasn't anything left for me back home. They were right."

"I'm glad you stayed."

"Me too."

We begin walking again, and I suddenly feel the need to tell him about Anton, due to the new 'No Secrets Policy' and all. But I don't know how to tell him without sounding stupid. I just want him to know. I don't want to be on this path of reconciliation and make a mistake before we can even get very far.

"I've been seeing someone."

Edward slows but doesn't stop, and I watch him from my peripheral vision, trying to gauge his reaction. I swear I didn't just blurt that out to get a response from him, but damn if I'm not feeling a surge of hopefulness by the way his jaw tightens.

He shoves his hands down into the pockets of his jeans and continues to walk a slow, steady pace beside me.

"That's good, Bella," he finally says. The same tightness I can see in his jaw reflects in his voice.

He's trying.

"His name is Anton."

We're trying.

We don't talk much after that admission. We just walk. And when we get to Alice and Jasper's apartment building, I slow to a stop, letting him know we've arrived.

"Thank you for walking me home."

"Thank you for letting me."

I smile and pull my jacket tighter. Let him… It sounds so funny. There was a time I would've begged him.

"Would you meet me for dinner tomorrow night?" he asks. "As friends, of course." The twinkle in his eye and the smirk on his lips nearly force me into a trance. I'm almost ready to say yes when I realize what day it is.

"I can't." It's abrupt, and his expression shifts. "I work. On Thursday nights, I work."

"Oh, right. The boutique." He nods and takes a deep breath. "Well, I guess I'll see you around, then."

"Yeah, I'll see ya around."

He backs away, hands still in his pockets, smirk back on his lips, and I watch him until he gets to the corner. When I can no longer see his retreating form, I make my way up the steps and into the building.

**WaS**

As I walk through the store, running the feather duster over shelves and racks, I can't help thinking about Edward and the fact that he's probably at Mr. Chan's right now eating dinner. I wish I could be there with him—just as friends, of course. I've missed his company… missed talking to him and feeling like there's somebody who really understands me. I've missed _him_.

The chime on the door and the cool breeze that follows bring me out of my thoughts. A lady in a bright blue trench coat and matching gloves walks into the store. Her dark hair is sleek and short, setting off her olive complexion and deep brown eyes. She's beautiful.

"Can I help you?" I ask, setting the duster behind the counter and meeting her in the middle of the store.

"I'm Chelsea Bertolini," she says, taking her gloves off and tucking them into the pocket of her coat. "I believe you know my son."

 _Of course._

"Anton."

"Yes, Anton." I can tell by the way she says his name that he hung the moon and stars in her world. The couple of times Anton has spoken of his mom, it's been with nothing less than the utmost respect and admiration. The fact that she's here, in the store—alone with me—makes me nervous. Making good first impressions isn't really my strong suit, especially with someone like her—crisp lines, color coordinated everything, not to mention the mother of someone I'm… what? Interested in? Seeing? What are we exactly?

"It's so nice to meet you," I tell her.

"Likewise, dear." She leans in and squeezes my shoulders, placing air kisses on both sides of my cheeks. "I've been telling Anton he needs to bring you home so I can meet you properly, but apparently you're a very busy girl."

I blush, feeling like I already have a strike against me, and I've only just met her. "Uh, well, I am working two jobs and taking a full load of courses."

"So I hear. How much longer do you have before you graduate?"

"Oh, I just started. I'm taking my gen ed courses through City College."

"I see. Do you know what you'd like your major to be?"

I feel like this is the Spanish Inquisition, and there's no one here to rescue me.

"Maybe something in Literature or English?" I really don't know. I know a few things I'd like to do, but I'm crossing that bridge when I get there.

She hums and begins to peruse the racks. I know she's a regular, but she's never been in here on the evenings I work. "Anton will be by in a little while. He's taking me out for dinner. I just closed on a seventy-million-dollar real estate deal."

 _Seventy? Did she say seventy million? As in real dollars?_

"Wow." I try to keep my voice even and not show my shock, but it's damn hard because seventy million dollars. "Congratulations. That's amazing."

"Have you ever thought about going into real estate?"

I know that's what Anton does. He's told me a little about his job, but we usually tend to stick to topics we both enjoy, like coffee, books, and music. I didn't realize real estate was a family business.

"No… No, I've never thought about real estate."

"Anton's father worked for Sotheby's." She says that like I'm supposed to know what or who that is, but I don't.

One thing Anton and I have in common is that both of our fathers have passed away. His died from a heart attack at seventy-eight. Mine died in a car accident at thirty-eight. There's a fifteen-year age difference between his mother and father.

Even in our similarity, there's difference.

About that time, the bell above the door chimes again, and in walks Anton with a bright smile on his face.

"I see you two have finally met." He walks over to his mother and kisses her cheek, and she kisses his back, but not the air ones like she gave me.

"Isabella, sweetie. Do me a favor and bag these up. I'll send my driver over tomorrow to pick them up for me. Just put them on my account." She picks half a dozen things haphazardly off the rack and practically throws them into my arms. "It was lovely meeting you, and I look forward to seeing you again."

"It was nice meeting you as well." I place the items on the counter and feel Anton walk up behind me. When the door chimes with his mother's departure, he leans in and brushes his lips against my cheek.

I turn my face, and he's only inches away. "She wants you to come for dinner this weekend."

"Okay." His close proximity forces me into agreeing with him before I can think about what exactly I'm agreeing to.

"Yeah?" he asks, backing up and raising his eyebrows in question.

"Yeah." I lean against the counter, and he places his hands on either side of me.

"Thank you." He smiles brighter and leans his forehead into mine. "This will make her very happy."

"And what about you?"

"It'll make me happy too."

"Good." I smile and nod, but inside, I wonder if she'd really be happy if she knew everything about me. Something tells me Chelsea Bertolini has a very specific idea of who Anton should be with, and I'm not sure if that person is me.

**WaS**

On Sunday evening, I'm standing in my bathroom, overanalyzing the outfit I borrowed from Alice. I only have a few dresses that I wear during the summer, so she loaned me a deep purple sweater dress, black tights, and heels.

My phone buzzes on the counter, and I pick it up to see a message from Anton.

 _ **My appointment is running late. Can you take a taxi there, and I'll drive you home?**_

The plan was that he would swing by to pick me up after the appointment he had this afternoon. His mother lives on the Upper East Side, and it would take me forever to get there on the subway. Not to mention, there is no way I'm walking very far in these shoes.

 **Yeah, that's fine. Just let me know the address, and I'll meet you.**

A minute later, the address comes through, and I take a deep breath before putting on my coat and grabbing my purse. It doesn't go with what I'm wearing, but it's the only one I have, so it'll have to do.

"Have fun," Alice calls out as I walk out the door.

On the ride over, I think about the interaction with Anton's mom the other day in the store and try to think of things to talk to her about, imagining how the evening will go.

Fortunately, when the driver stops and lets me out near the curb, Anton is there waiting for me. He smiles and immediately apologizes for not picking me up. After handing the driver money through the window, he takes my hand and pulls me to him. "Thanks so much for doing this."

"I'm happy to… really." I think I'm still trying to convince myself when he bends down and places his lips on mine. There's no rush, no intensity. It's nice and soft.

He lingers for a moment and then pulls back and continues walking toward the door, where a man greets him by name. He opens the door for us and ushers us into what looks like a hotel.

Maybe his mother lives in a hotel?

On the ride up the elevator, Anton removes his hand from mine and rests it on the small of my back. The gesture reminds me of Edward, and I force myself to push him out of my mind. I'm here with Anton. I can't be thinking about Edward. That's not fair.

"Deep in thought?" he asks as the elevator smoothly stops at the sixteenth floor.

"I guess so." I smile to try to put him at ease.

The minute the door opens, his mother greets us both—air kissing me and real kissing Anton. He takes both of our coats and hangs them in a closet by the door. We haven't even sat down to dinner yet, and it all feels so formal already. The space is beautiful, like nothing I've ever seen before outside of movies and my imagination. The windows of the living room wrap around the entire space, and Chelsea boasts that you can see both the east and west side skylines. After walking close and taking a look myself, I also notice that she has a perfect view of Central Park. I've only been there a couple of times since I moved to the city, but I love it.

Chelsea and Anton fall into comfortable conversation about their recent business transactions and Anton's meeting from today. She coaches him, prodding him on what to say and how to handle the people he's working with. When she puts on this hat, I can see that she's probably really good at what she does. I'm sure Anton is too. He's so smooth and charming, with looks that could kill. People probably offer to pay more as soon as he smiles at them.

When we finally sit down at the elegant dining room table, I feel myself wanting to fidget. The napkin in my lap feels heavy. The china feels too fragile. The wine looks too expensive. Anton glances over and places his hand on my leg. I didn't even realize I was moving it. I smile an apology, and we begin to eat.

"Anton, dear," Chelsea begins, and I hope it's not more real estate talk. I don't mind not having to hold a conversation, but I think I've heard all of it I can take for one night. "Did you hear about Paula and Sam Winters' daughter? What's her name?" She tilts her head and cuts her eyes like she's pondering.

"Alex," Anton says after taking a sip of his wine.

"Yes." Chelsea's voice takes on a conspiratorial tone.

"I heard she's doing charity work in South Africa," Anton says, cutting a piece of steak with his fork. With. His. Fork. Because this steak is probably the best I've ever had. I continue enjoying it while they gossip.

"Yes, well," she says, her voice dropping lower. "I heard she's really at a rehabilitation center in Australia. Apparently, she's been using her inheritance to fund a fairly substantial drug problem." She looks at Anton with raised eyebrows and pursed lips. "I always knew that girl was trouble."

"Her only problem was that her parents gave her anything she wanted."

"Thank God you never had a penchant for illegal substances."

Anton chuckles and rolls his eyes.

"Isabella." I don't recall ever telling her my full name, and it kind of grates on my nerves that she chooses to use it.

"Just Bella," I tell her, smiling to soften the statement.

"Bella." Her smile is more forced. "Tell me about your parents."

My face instantly heats up, and my palms begin to sweat. I think about feigning a coughing fit or an illness or excuse myself to the bathroom, but I'd eventually have to come back.

"My father passed away eight years ago, and my mother is currently in a rehabilitation center."

I can see Anton put his fork down and turn slightly in his chair, but I can't bring myself to look at him. I don't want to see his face right now.

"Oh, dear. Is she ill?"

"Yes, she is… ill." It's not the whole truth, but it's not a lie. I know you can lie by omission, but I'd rather not air my dirty laundry on Mrs. Bertolini's gorgeous tablescape. It would crush the peonies.

Later, when we're getting ready to leave, I excuse myself to the bathroom, but I don't really need to pee. I just need a moment to myself. Sitting on the closed toilet seat, I take a few deep, cleansing breaths, and after a few minutes, I wash my hands and quietly walk out. Stopping at the corner that leads to the large foyer, I hear Anton and his mother speaking in hushed tones.

"She doesn't even know what she wants to do with her life, Anton. Is that really someone you want to be with?"

That statement should sting, but it doesn't. It's the truth. I'm just starting to find my way, figuring out what I want to do. I'm not ashamed of that.

"Mother, not everyone is like you… or me. And that's okay. I like Bella. Please don't make this a game of choosing sides."

"Of course not." Her tone lightens, and I peek around the corner to see her patting his cheek. "Thank you for coming to dinner tonight and for bringing Isabella."

"Bella," he says, correcting her, and I smile.

"Yes, Bella. She's delightful."

I take this as my cue to make my presence known.

"Thank you so much for having me over for dinner, Mrs. Bertolini."

"You're welcome, dear. Please come again."

Anton helps me with my coat, and a few minutes later, we're sharing a silent ride down the elevator.

Once we're in his car and driving back toward Alice and Jasper's, I decide I need to tell him about Renee. It's stupid not to.

"My mother, Renee, is an addict. She's in Freedmont Rehabilitation Center. That's why I moved here. She was in the hospital last weekend because she had overdosed. She had been in a halfway house when it happened, but she's now back in rehab."

Anton doesn't make any quick comments or movements. He keeps his eyes on the road ahead of us. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Me too.

"That must be really hard on you."

"She's been an addict my whole life. It's all I know."

We drive the rest of the way in silence, letting the differences between us settle. When we get to the apartment, he pulls up near the curb and puts the car in park.

"Thank you for coming tonight."

"Thank you for inviting me. The dinner was delicious."

He smirks and leans forward, placing his lips on mine once again. I kiss him back, hoping for some sign that this is where I'm supposed to be, but there's not one. Not yet, anyway.

"Good night."

"Good night, Bella."

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** Hey, howdy, hey! It's been awhile since we had time to do regular author's notes. So, how are we feeling about this chapter?

 **Jiff:** I'm feeling like Anton's mom needs a good, swift kick in the vag, to be honest.

 **Jenny Kate:** She's a little pretentious, to say the least.

 **Jiff:** I just realized, all three moms in this story are bitches! What's up with that?

 **Jenny Kate:** What is up with that?! We normally write good mamas. Although, I think Mrs. Bertolini has Anton's best interests at heart...she just doesn't think Bella is in his best interests.

 **Jiff:** Well, who cares what she thinks? LOL I just wonder how much power she has over Anton.

 **Jenny Kate:** I guess we'll just have to wait and see...or watch and see. Sorry. I can't resist. And then there's Edward… *sighs*

 **Jiff:** I love the image of him laughing his ass off and just being all-around adorable.

 **Jenny Kate:** I guess he's another one we'll just have to watch and see what happens. ;)

 **Jiff:** Especially now that he knows about Anton…

 **Jenny Kate:** Yep… and at some point Anton is going to have to know about Edward.

 **Jiff** : I think the pressure is starting to build for Bella to make a decision regarding these two guys!

 **Jenny Kate:** Even though her and Edward are just friends…

 **Jiff** : Yeah, yeah.

 **Jenny Kate:** I think we better wrap this up. Thanks so much to everyone who's reading, reviewing, rec'ing, tweeting, and posting on Facebook! We appreciate y'all so much!

 **Jiff:** Also, a big shoutout to our ladies! Our beta, GeekChic12, and pre-readers, Rachel and Pamela, work their asses off for us and we love them so much!

See y'all Friday!


	23. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of work, classes, Anton, and Edward. I finally found an opportunity to mention Edward to Anton without it sounding like I'd been hiding him. After I told Edward that I'd been seeing someone, I felt it was only fair to tell Anton that there's an Edward. I just explained that we had something at one point and it ended badly. I told him Edward showed up to apologize and explain himself and that we'd been talking. I couldn't really tell how Anton felt about it, but he said he thought it was good… that closure is good.

What I didn't tell him is that it doesn't feel like closure. It feels like an opening. Edward's opening up to me, and I'm opening up to him, and we're back to having easy conversations. I wish I saw him more than once a week, but for now, I'll take what I can get.

When I walk into the library's staff lounge, I immediately regret it.

"I swear, Alice. Emmett gave me the pounding of my life last night!"

Hoping my friends haven't noticed me yet, I slowly start walking backwards to get out of the room.

"Not so fast, Swan. Get back in here," Alice commands.

"Aww, come on. You know I don't want to hear about your sex lives," I whine.

Both Rose and Alice give me their best eyebrow-raised bitch faces and stare at me expectantly.

With a heavy sigh, I plop down in a chair across from the couch they're on. Plastering a fake smile on my face, I snark, "Please, Rose, continue your story."

Completely ignoring my attitude, Rose proceeds. "As I was saying, Emmett gave it to me so good last night. I swear, I saw stars!" Even though most of my grumbling about listening to their sex stories comes from pure jealousy, I can't help but smile at my friend. Then she drops a bombshell. "Emmett swears that last night was _the_ night and that I'm sure to be pregnant this time."

Alice and I look at each other before what Rose just said sinks in; then we practically tackle her as we gush our congratulations. "Oh, my gosh, Rose! You're going to have a baby? That's amazing!"

"Rose, I'm sorry for being so pissy earlier," I tell her once we've calmed down.

"Please, girl. You know I'd be talking about Em's monster cock regardless. Don't worry about it." She winks at me as I blush and giggle.

"Well, I admit, I'm surprised you're still so secretive about your sex life, Bella. I mean, you're seeing two guys! You gotta be getting some from at least one of them by now."

I can only imagine how red my face is right now.

"Alice, I'm not sleeping with either Anton or Edward."

"Why the fuck not?" Rose blurts out.

"Anton and I have only kissed a few times. He's never made any kind of move beyond that. Besides, I'm not _seeing_ two guys. Anton and I date, but we're not exclusive, and Edward and I are really just friends."

"But they know about each other, right?" Alice asks.

"Yeah, they do."

"Then just you wait, Bella dear. Soon, that competitive male gene will start rearing its ugly head in both of them, and they'll be pissing all over your leg."

"That's not what I want," I admit truthfully. It's never been my intention to lead either of them on. I enjoy being with both guys, but Anton moves really slow and Edward even slower.

"How are Anton's kisses?"

I give Rose a strange look, so she elaborates. "His kisses. How are they? Are they sweet? Passionate? Do they make your toes and lips tingle?"

Thinking back to the few times Anton and I have kissed, I try to remember how they made me feel. "They've all been quick pecks so far, but his lips are soft," I offer.

"You mean, he hasn't slipped you the tongue yet?" Alice practically shouts her question, and I look around the room to make sure we're still alone.

"No, he hasn't." The doubt about Anton that I've tried to ignore lately starts creeping in, bringing with it all of my old insecurities. "Maybe he's not attracted to me."

"Don't even start that shit, Bella Swan. _You_ are not the problem. Do you think he might be gay?"

"No. I think he's just very proper. You should see his mother… very uptight."

"What about Edward?" Rose asks.

"We've only kissed once." Well, I kissed him... but he kissed me back. I touch my lips and look up to see Rose and Alice both watching me. They know about the incident in the therapy room. I don't need to expound on it, but imagining how it'd feel to have Edward's lips on mine again has me clenching my thighs.

"That's what I thought," Rose says, pointing to my chair. "Look at you squirming. You want Edward, and I'm sure he feels the same, so do something about it already!"

I can't deny the attraction I feel toward Edward. That's never been the problem, but I also like Anton's company, and I wonder if I'm not giving him a fair chance now that Edward is back in my life.

"I'm just so confused."

"Don't worry so much, Bella," Rose says to comfort me. "Just do what I'd do. Fuck 'em both, and then decide."

**WaS**

Another week passes, and I'm back at my usual table at Mr. Chan's, waiting for Edward. I've really enjoyed getting to know him better this time around, and I'm thrilled to know there's still so much more to learn about him. When we'd meet up before the _windowgate_ , as I like to call it, I was always filled with guilt and scared that he'd learn of my stalker ways before I was ready to admit them. Of course, I loved spending time with him, but I never could completely relax around him. That's not the case anymore. Now, Edward and I are at ease with ourselves, as well as each other, and we can have fun together without things getting complicated.

I still daydream about going on a real date with Edward, but remembering the sound of his voice saying "was", regarding his feelings for me, always wakes me up and sets me straight. I don't blame him. My actions caused him to put me in the friend zone, so I have to accept it.

The smell of my favorite soup causes me to look up just as Edward walks to the table. He places two bowls down before kissing my temple and sitting down across from me.

"Hey," he says. "I went ahead and ordered for us. Hope that's okay."

I clear my throat and smile at him. "Of course it is. Thank you."

I try hard to remain calm as I place my napkin on my lap and then take a sip of water, but I can't stop focusing on that kiss. I'd forgotten just how good his lips feel. In the grand scheme of things, it shouldn't be a big deal. It was a sweet kiss—purely platonic, I'm sure—used to greet me. That's all.

But if that's the case, then why am I fixated on how half of his mouth landed on my hair while the other half made actual contact with my skin, leaving behind a damp heat that's now traveling across my body?

"Look. Mr. Chan gave me two wontons! I'm still not even close to being his favorite, but I don't think he hates me anymore."

Laughing, I look at my bowl, which is completely covered with wontons. "It's definitely a start. At least he's laying off the hot sauce now."

"Hell yes. My body and I both thank him for that." He smiles at me, and I swear I forget how to breathe. He's just so… happy now. It looks great on him.

"What has you so chipper this evening?"

"I just left my appointment with my therapist."

"I take it that went well," I prod.

"It did. So well, in fact, that we're now going to meet once a week instead of twice, and she says she thinks I'm ready to go back to work." He's beaming, and I can't help but return his smile.

"Edward, that's great! I'm so proud of you. Do you feel ready to work again?"

"I really do. When I took my sabbatical, my life was completely out of sorts. My private life was getting out of hand, and I was struggling with wanting an unethical relationship with you. Both of those things started to affect my work, and I knew I needed help. Jane walking in on us when she did and you confronting me about what you saw in my window gave me the wake-up call I needed. Soon after I left you in the cemetery, I began looking for someone to help me.

"Seeing Carmen has taught me a lot about myself and how I interact with others. It's helped me seek out positive relationships and learn how to foster them in a healthy way. I'm still working on that, but it's definitely getting better. I feel more in control of my life. I'm learning not to blame my past for everything and not to make assumptions based on my past."

"That's amazing. I'm very happy for you." My smile fades a little, but I try to recover by taking a sip of my soup.

"What's wrong?"

Crap. Sometimes I hate being so transparent.

"Nothing. I really am thrilled you're doing so well and going back to work, but… Ugh, I'm so selfish." I shake my head at my ridiculousness, hating how stupid and childish I feel.

"Just tell me." His voice is concerned and soft.

"Well, you're going back to work, and Renee is there again. So does that mean we can't see each other anymore?"

The look of relief on his face can't be missed, and I start to feel hopeful, especially when he grabs my hand. "Renee won't be my patient. You and I don't have to stop seeing each other, because we're not doing anything unethical."

Relief doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling right now. I squeeze Edward's hand and grin at him just as I hear my name being called from behind me.

Shit.

I turn around and try to hide the mixture of emotions I'm feeling in this moment, but I already know I suck at that. What's he doing here? How did he know to come here?

He walks over to the table and immediately pulls me to him, kissing my cheek. I feel his intake of breath against my skin, and it makes me tense.

The questions must be all over my face because he starts explaining himself without me having to say a word.

"I hope you don't mind that I stopped by. I've been so busy this week that I completely forgot this is your night off. When I went by the library and you weren't there, the blonde at the desk told me I could find you here."

 _Rose._ I inwardly roll my eyes and choke down a groan. Can she not mind her own damn business?

"This place is small," he says, looking around the restaurant.

Edward clears his throat, and I feel the room get even smaller.

"Anton," I say, stepping back. "This is Edward." Edward stands and offers his hand. "Edward, this is Anton."

They shake hands, and I'm standing there trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to say now.

"Is the food any good?" Anton asks, looking up at the menu on the wall behind the counter. Mr. Chan is watching the three of us, and I give him a small smile.

"It's the best," Edward answers.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

"Uh, not really. I, uh… I had a big lunch."

He watches Edward. Edward watches me.

"Would you like to sit?" I ask, not knowing what else to say.

"I don't want to interrupt." The tone is abrupt and more severe than I'm used to hearing from him.

"It's fine. We're just having some soup and talking. Edward, do you mind if Anton joins us?"

"Of course not," he says, gesturing to the free chair at our table.

I hate putting Edward in this position, but I don't want to be rude, either. This is so awkward.

Anton pulls the extra chair out, and we all sit down. I watch him as he smooths down his tie and adjusts his suit jacket. I think this is Anton being nervous. I've never seen him sweat before. "So, Edward," he begins, and I cringe, not knowing where this conversation is going to go or what he's going to say. "Bella never told me what it is you do."

"I'm a therapist."

Anton looks over at me and then back at Edward. "Do you work at the rehabilitation center where Bella's mother is admitted?"

"Yes, I do."

Edward's answer is clipped, and his jaw tightens like it does when he's mad or upset. I've seen it a few times, and I've started to notice a pattern.

"So, is that how the two of you met?"

"Yes."

Anton nods, and Edward crosses his arms over his chest. His focus shifts from me to Anton and then back to me. I wonder what he's thinking. I wish Anton weren't here. I know that's bad, but this is my time with Edward, and I hate that Anton's intruding on that.

"Bella and I also used to practically be neighbors, so we saw each other a few times outside of the rehab facility."

"Really?" Anton asks, casting his gaze on me.

"Yeah. I used to live here, actually."

"Here?" Anton's face scrunches in confusion.

"Well, upstairs. Above the restaurant."

"I see." His eyes look around the restaurant and then up, probably wondering what the hell could be up there worth living in.

Our conversation drifts from what Anton does for a living to his favorite Asian place on the Upper East Side. I think Mr. Chan overhears that comment and takes offense. His scowl is prominent tonight, and it's directed at Anton. Edward should be happy that the heat is now on someone else.

When Edward and I both finish our soup, I stack our bowls and trays and take them up to the counter, delivering them to Mr. Chan and asking if he needs my help tonight.

"Look like you have hands full." He harrumphs and walks back toward the kitchen.

Yeah, Mr. Chan is not a fan.

"Bella," Anton says, standing from his chair. "My car's out front, so I'll give you a ride home."

"Oh, well… thank you." It's not what I want. I want Edward to walk me home again, but it'd be rude for me to say anything besides thank you.

Edward inhales deeply through his nose and pushes his chair back in with a little more force than is necessary.

"Edward," Anton says, offering his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

Edward nods and shakes his hand. "Just make sure she gets home safely." He leans over and places his lips to my temple for the second time tonight, but this time, all of his lips touch my skin, and they leave a tingle in their wake. I feel it even after he begins to walk off.

"I'll see you next week, if not before," he says when the three of us are out on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, I'll see you next week."

When Anton opens the car door for me, I can't help but turn around and watch Edward. He's at the corner, waiting on the light, and he turns around to look at me—eyes smoldering, jaw tight.

As we pull away from the curb, Anton reaches across the console and takes my hand into his. He's never this touchy-feely, so I can only assume it's because of Edward. I don't hold his hand back. I just stay still. His touch isn't the searing touch of Edward. It's just... there.

When we pull up to the apartment building, I thank Anton for the ride and slip my hand from his. But before I can open the car door, he leans over and kisses me, pushing my head against the back of the seat, and it feels all wrong.

Wrong touch.

Wrong smell.

Wrong lips.

I gently push him back, not wanting to hurt his feelings or make things awkward.

"I should probably get upstairs. I've got a big test tomorrow, and I still need to study."

Anton exhales and rests his forehead on mine.

"I want you," he says, causing my heart to stutter and beat faster. "What do _you_ want, Bella?" His question is a quiet whisper, but it fills the confined space.

I take a breath and try to create some distance between us, but it's hard. "I… I don't know." He's never been this forward before, and it's making me uncomfortable. "I don't know what I want."

"I'll fight for you… if you want me to."

I want to tell him there's no one to fight, but that'd be a lie.

I know with Anton, there would be security. I would never have to worry about where I was going to live or if I was going to have money to pay bills or buy food. I'm sure we'd spend every holiday with his mother and every summer in the Hamptons. We'd have a three-bedroom on the Upper East Side, and one of these days, we'd probably fill two of those bedrooms with children. Our lives would be comfortable and stable. I'd be content.

"You don't have to do that."

As we sit here, my mind drifts to my conversation with Alice a while back. She said sometimes life is scary, and it's okay because that means we're living.

I think I want scary.

I want to feel like my skin is on fire.

"I will," he replies in a desperate tone.

How do I tell him I don't want him to? That he's not the one I want to fight for me.

"Do you love me?" I ask out of the blue, and I have no idea where it came from or why the hell I just said it, but it causes Anton to stutter and shift back in his seat.

"No, but… well, I mean… I could. You're a very loveable person, Bella."

I swallow hard and try to gather my thoughts before speaking again.

"You should fight for someone you love," I tell him, reaching across and taking his hand this time. "Fight for someone that makes you burn from the inside out… someone you can't imagine living your life without."

"I can see myself loving you," he retorts.

"And what about your mom? Do you think she'd love me?"

He chuckles nervously and runs a hand over his hair. "My mother is a complicated woman."

I sigh, settling back into my seat. "I overheard what she was saying to you that night we had dinner with her. The two of you were in the foyer, and she was telling you that I'm all wrong for you. I think her words were, _she doesn't even know what she wants to do with her life_." I chuckle lightly and fidget with a loose thread on my sweater. "She's right, you know?" I look over at him, and he's staring out the window. "I don't know what I want to do with my life. I've just recently started living, and I'm okay with that."

Anton lays his head back on the seat and looks at me. "She'd come around."

"Does she know my mom's a junkie?"

He lets out a deep breath, but he doesn't answer.

"I didn't think so."

"She doesn't have to know. It's not any of her business."

"Yeah, I know. But if you and I were to have a more serious relationship, it probably would be, and I doubt she'd approve."

"My mother doesn't have to approve of every aspect of my life."

"That's true, but what happens when she doesn't? Will she hate me?"

"It wouldn't be like that. I wouldn't let it."

"You're a really sweet guy. You have a big heart and great taste in books." I smile, and he smiles back. "You came into my life when I needed someone to just be there for me."

"I'll keep being there for you."

"I know." I nod and swallow down the emotions I feel building. "But don't fight for me. Save that for the right one… for _the_ one."

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** *sighs* Was anyone else cringing when Anton walked into the restaurant?

 **Jiff:** *raises hand* I think my comments in Gdocs expressed my feelings about that scene pretty well.

 **Jenny Kate:** Was it Aca-awkward? LOL.

 **Jiff:** Totes. But I love it. It was only a matter of time before Anton and Edward met each other.

 **Jenny Kate:** It was and we knew given a chance Rose would step in and fix that. Gotta love Rose and her real talk. LOL

 **Jiff:** Rose's track record isn't great when it comes to the men in Bella's life but I'm glad she's giving her a little push to make a decision.

 **Jenny Kate:** Sometimes a push is good. Edward didn't seem thrilled about Anton waltzing in. Maybe that was the push he needed to realize he's STILL falling for Bella?

 **Jiff:** More like a shove! Hopefully, they'll both realize they're falling for each other…again. LOL

 **Jenny Kate:** We'll just have to watch and see. ;) Hahaha. Sorry, I can never resist.

 **Jiff:** Oh, boy. On that note, let's thank our awesome team. GeekChic12, our beta extraordinaire, and our kick-ass prereaders, Rachel and Pamela, we love y'all HARD! Thanks for all that you do for us!

Have a great weekend, especially those getting an extra day off for Labor Day! Be safe! We'll see you Tuesday.


	24. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

Thank goodness the boutique is slow today. I'm so tired I wouldn't be much help to anyone right now. After my talk with Anton last night, I just couldn't go to sleep. It wasn't because I regret breaking things off with him, because I don't. It was because I kept trying to think of what to say to Edward the next time I see him.

I felt awful leaving with Anton instead of Edward, but I knew it was time to tell Anton how I feel… or _don't_ feel, actually. I just hope Edward isn't too angry with me. All night, I lay in bed wishing I could talk to him. Why we haven't exchanged phone numbers yet baffles me, but maybe he's not ready to take that step yet.

There are times when I think he wants to be more than friends and times when I'm just not sure. My eyes were finally closing around two in the morning when I had the brilliant idea to tell Edward how I feel, but when I woke up a few hours later, I panicked, remembering what happened the last time I was that forward with him.

Yes, we've both grown and changed since that night, but I can't help but be scared of his reaction if he's not ready for more.

A huge yawn causes my mouth to open widely, and I've barely recovered when the door swings open, revealing Edward. He's never visited me here before, and I'm equal parts elated and nervous, not knowing what to expect from him. I quickly wipe away the moisture under my eyes and collect myself before greeting him with a smile.

"Are you crying?" he asks.

"What?" I reply, confused.

"You were wiping your eyes just now. Are you okay?"

"Oh, that. I'm fine. I had just yawned before you opened the door, and my eyes always water when I yawn," I explain. "But thanks for being concerned."

Edward walks up to me, his deep blue eyes gazing at me with an intensity that makes my stomach tighten. "Of course I'm concerned, Bella. That's one of the reasons I'm here—to make sure you're okay after last night. I wanted so badly to go to your apartment and check on you, but I didn't know which unit was yours. I also didn't know if… if Anton would be there or not." He says Anton's name like he's spitting out a curse, and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling, kinda loving the fact he wanted to check on me.

"Anton didn't go inside my apartment with me."

He looks a little surprised, but relief also relaxes his features. "Oh, okay. That's, uh..."

"I didn't really think he'd want to come up after I'd just broken up with him. That might've been a little awkward," I tell him in my normal verbal-vomit style.

Edward steps closer to me. "Really? You broke up with him?"

"Well, I don't know if _break up_ is the right term. We were never exclusive or serious, but yeah. He knows I don't want him to pursue me anymore."

"What changed?" he asks skeptically, like he wants to be happy about it, but he's not sure if he should be. "I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want to…"

"I don't mind." I smile at him, finding confidence in his curiosity. "Simply put, I knew he wasn't the right guy for me. I wanted him to be, at first. I tried to _make_ him be the right guy for me because he was… safe, easy… Nothing like I've experienced before, but ultimately, he's not who I truly want or need."

"Was he upset?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "He wasn't in love with me. I think we were both settling, thinking our friendship would eventually turn romantic, but that's not the kind of relationship I want."

Edward's hand gingerly takes mine, his long fingers wrapping around my own before grasping tightly. "What _do_ you want?" Before I can answer, he interjects. "Because… I have to admit…" He pauses, hesitating for a moment, but then continues. "I want it to be me. I want to be what you want— _who_ you want."

To say I'm shocked by his words is the understatement of the year. I'm pretty sure if Edward wasn't holding my hand right now, I'd be passed out on the floor. He's just said the words I've wanted to hear from him for so long, and I don't know how to respond. Do I say 'yes, that'd be lovely', or do I jump his bones right here in the store? I'm having a hard time finding the middle ground right now.

Unfortunately, he takes my silence as rejection.

"It's okay if you're not ready or if I'm not the one you want." His grip on my hand loosens, and the cool air that hits my skin after his warm touch leaves wakes me from my stupor.

"No." I tighten my hold on his hand. "I mean, yes. Yes, it's you, Edward. It's always been you. I never thought you'd want me the way I want you, but I was happy to at least be your friend."

His strong hands cradle my face, forcing me to look at him. I'm torn between focusing my gaze on his eyes and his mouth.

"It's been fucking agony standing aside and only being your friend, but I don't regret a single moment, Bella. There are still things you don't know about me, but I'm finally ready to share them with you, if you'll have me."

The word _yes_ barely leaves my mouth before his lips are on mine, consuming me… claiming me. The kiss we shared months ago has nothing on this one. That kiss was filled with desperation and uncertainty, but this one is all about forgiveness and hope, the promise of what's to come.

Our lips eventually separate, but our arms stay wrapped around each other, not wanting to end this perfect moment. When the chime on the front door announces a customer walking in, we quickly pull apart. I run my hands over my hair and clothes, hoping I look somewhat professional as I go to greet the intruder.

I show her to a rack of sweaters we just got in yesterday. As she's browsing, I walk back over to Edward and notice he's blushing. His scruff almost hides it, but I can just see the hint of pink on the apples of his cheeks.

"I should go," he says. We both know neither of us wants him to leave, but I have work to do, and it most certainly won't get it done if he stays.

I walk him to the door, and just before he crosses the threshold, he turns to me and asks, "Can I have your phone number?"

Laughing, I take his phone and type my number into his contact list.

He tells me he'll see me soon before kissing my cheek and walking out the door.

**WaS**

Renee still isn't taking my calls. I know I should let her be, but I need to see her. I want to know if she's okay. The last time I saw her, she was lying in a hospital bed a sobbing mess. For the first time in my life, she was honest with me. She told the truth—owned up to her addictions and stopped using me for an excuse. It released me that day. As painful as it was to listen to, something happened inside me. I started letting go of the guilt that had taken up residence deep inside me.

I forgive her. I don't know if I'm supposed to or if she deserves it, but I do.

And I love her. Even if I shouldn't.

As I walk up the sidewalk approaching the rehab facility, my stomach twists. This is the first time I've been here since the day I ran out after kissing Edward and jeopardizing his job. My life was spiraling out of control back then, and it was nearly impossible for me to see a way out. It's hard to believe that was only four months ago. So much has happened since then. And oddly enough, I wouldn't take any of it back; not even the part where my life was spiraling because that's what put me on the path I'm on today, and for that, I'm grateful.

Today's visit is multi-purposed. First, I'm here to see Renee if she'll see me. And second, I'm hoping to run into Edward. I just saw him two nights ago when he came to the shop, but I miss him already. Now that he's opened the floodgates by kissing me and demanding to know what I want, I can't help myself. Our weekly visits at Mr. Chan's aren't enough any longer.

"Can I help you?" the lady sitting at the front desk asks as I walk up.

"Yes, I'm here to see Renee Swan," I tell her, offering her my driver's license.

"Are you on her visitation list?"

"I'm her daughter. I should be."

She's quiet for a minute as she clicks her mouse and scrolls through something on the computer screen in front of her. "It doesn't look like Mrs. Swan has anyone on her approved visitor's list at this time," she says apologetically.

I frown and feel the disappointment sinking in.

"Is that doctor-ordered or her preference?" I ask, not sure if I want to know the answer. If she's intentionally shutting me out, that hurts. Now that she's begun to open up, I was hoping we could at least talk.

"I can't say for sure."

"Is there someone else I can speak to? Like her therapist or a doctor?"

"There's not. I'm sorry. But I can leave a note for someone to call you."

I let out a sigh and nod my head. "Okay."

She takes my name and number, informing me a doctor will call as soon as possible.

"Can you at least tell me if she's doing okay?" I ask, needing some kind of information before I leave.

"That's something you'll have to discuss with her doctor when he calls."

"Okay. Thanks."

I back away from the desk and look around for any signs of Edward. I could text him now that I have his number, but I don't want to bother him while he's working. Reluctantly, I head for the front doors and back out onto the sidewalk.

"Bella." I hear his voice before I see him.

"Bella," he calls again before I turn around.

Edward is walking toward me down the sidewalk, and it's hard to keep from ogling him. He's in a dress shirt that fits him like a glove. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and they tighten as he shoves his hands down into the pockets of his slacks. The beard he was sporting only days ago has been trimmed down to a well-groomed scruff, and his hair is a bit shorter. It makes his deep blue eyes stand out even more than they normally do, and I find it hard to form a coherent thought.

"Hey," I manage to say.

"Hey." His lips curl up into a small smile, and his eyes squint a little. "I was hoping I'd see you before Wednesday."

"Yeah, Wednesday seemed too far away," I tell him, causing his smile to grow.

"How's Renee?" he asks.

"She's not taking visitors." The smile he put on my face fades. "The lady at the front desk told me one of Renee's doctors would call me."

He lets out a deep sigh and takes a step closer, reaching his hand out and placing it on my hip. He pulls me to him, closing the small distance between us, and kisses the top of my head. "I'm sorry."

It's two words, but the understanding and empathy behind them is what makes my heart feel better and worse all at the same time. I exhale and lean into him, resting my cheek on his chest.

I think what I love the most is that he doesn't say something just to try to make me feel better.

He tilts his head down until his lips brush against my cheek. "Anything I can do?"

I shake my head. "No. I'm not putting you in that position."

"I'm no longer her therapist. It would be okay for me to give her a message from you."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"I'd do it for you."

Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away. I don't want to cry. If Renee doesn't want to see me, or can't, I'll respect that. I don't understand it, but I've spent my entire life not understanding her. Why should that change now?

"I'll just wait to hear from her doctor."

Edward nods his head and squeezes me a little tighter. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine... I'll be fine." I give him a smile, a weak one, but I don't feel the need to put up pretenses with him.

"I've gotta get back to work, but I'll call you later."

"Okay."

He backs away slowly, like he doesn't want to leave, and I kinda love it. Because I don't want him to either.

"Glad you got to see me," he says with a teasing smirk before turning around and walking toward the door.

I can't help but laugh and roll my eyes.

I continue to watch the view for a few more seconds before I slip my hands into my pockets and turn to walk away. That's when I feel the Kit Kat I picked up for Renee on my way over. It was meant to be a peace offering, and I'd still like her to have it.

"Edward," I call after him, running to catch up. "Can you give this to her?"

He smiles when he sees the candy bar in my hand. "Yeah, I'll make sure she gets it." His eyes meet mine, and we stay locked in a gaze for longer than I'd normally be comfortable with,, if it was anyone else. But it's Edward, and I could stay locked in his gaze forever.

I wish I knew what he was thinking.

I wish I could kiss him.

As if he could read my mind, he leans down and captures my lips with his. It's quick and soft and sweet, but I feel it in every inch of my body, all the way down to my toes, and it leaves me wanting more.

"I'll call you later." He's a little breathless, and his eyes are hooded and dark. And then he's gone. But I'll be thinking about that kiss until the next one.

**WaS**

I just saw Edward on Saturday, but it feels like it's been an eternity. He called me Saturday evening while he was walking home from work and let me know he delivered the Kit Kat to Renee. He said she seemed kind of sad but that it also made her smile. He called me again on Sunday evening, and we talked about meeting up for coffee, but I was still preparing for a test on Monday, so I stayed home and did the responsible thing by studying.

Last night, he waited until he was back at his apartment to call me, and I couldn't help picturing him standing in his living room in those gray sweatpants, looking out the large window. The image in my mind is so vivid, but it feels like a dream, like another lifetime. As much as I want to forget everything that happened before, I don't want to forget that… him. Slowly, the mysterious man from the window is morphing into this new Edward who is tangible and real.

When I get to the crosswalk by Mr. Chan's, I look up to see Edward standing outside of the restaurant. He's wearing a coat that buttons up the front. The collar is turned up, and a scarf is nestled around his neck. The way he's leaning up against the side of the building makes him look like a runway model. These are the moments when I think he can't be real and that there's no way he wants me.

But then he looks at me, like he's doing right now, and I forget about pasts and insecurities. I smile and wave as I cross the street, and he meets me at the curb.

"I was getting ready to come find you." His arms wrap around me and pull me in. I feel his nose in my hair as he inhales deeply. "God, I missed you."

"Sorry. I was late getting out of the library." I can't help but giggle, latching on to the lapels of his jacket and pulling him closer. "I missed you too."

His lips brush my cheek, and then he leans back to look me in the eyes. "Have you had a good week?"

"It's better now."

"Good. Let's get some soup."

He takes my hand as we walk to the door, and it feels so good. I'm glad I still haven't found my gloves because I'd hate to miss out on the feel of his skin on mine, even in this small dose. But it makes me want more.

Mr. Chan is standing behind the counter, and a sly smile graces his face when he sees me and Edward walk in together.

"Hey, Mr. Chan," I say as we walk up to the counter.

"Bella," Mr. Chan says, nodding his head.

"Got another A on a test," I tell him, slipping the paper out of my pocket and setting it on top of the counter.

He beams at me as he looks at the piece of paper. "You do good work. Mr. Chan proud of you."

"Thanks." I can't help the smile on my face. Making the old man proud of me has become my new favorite pastime. I feel Edward's hand on the small of my back, and then it slips to my hip, and he pulls me into his side, kissing the top of my head.

"Two soups," Mr. Chan says. "Extra wontons." One of his eyebrows shoots up as he looks at Edward, and I wonder if that's his warning glare or something. I feel Edward chuckle, and he kisses me again as Mr. Chan prepares our soup.

When he slides our trays over to us, one of them has a small brown sack like the ones he used to give me with food in it. "What's this?" I ask as Edward pays.

"Gloves," Mr. Chan says with a nod, handing Edward back his change. "No more cold hands."

I shake my head and look into the bag. There's a pair of purple gloves inside, and I smile, feeling a lump form in my throat. Taking them out, I slip one on, and it fits perfectly… like a glove. No pun intended. Leaning over the counter, I plant a big kiss on Mr. Chan's cheek, and he chuckles. "Thank you, Mr. Chan. I love them," l tell him, trying to keep my voice even.

"Good." His expression tells me he's pleased with himself, and that makes me happy. "Now, go eat soup."

Edward takes both of our trays, and I follow him to our table, slipping the gloves into my pockets.

We eat and talk. Our conversation drifts from Renee to my classes, and occasionally, we'll comment on someone passing by our window. Edward shares a little about a new case he's working on. He doesn't give me details, of course, but he's struggling with how to help, and he needs someone to listen. I don't mind being that someone. In fact, I love being that someone.

When we've both been finished eating for a while, Edward stands, and I'm worried he's ready to leave.

I'm not ready. It's late, later than we normally stay, but I know Mr. Chan doesn't mind. He cleans for at least an hour after closing.

"Wait right here," Edward says, taking our trays and walking toward the counter.

I turn around to see Mr. Chan exchange the trays for another brown paper sack. The smile on Edward's face tells me he's up to something, but I don't know what. It's a boyish smile, one I haven't seen before, and I love it.

"What?" I ask as he sits back down across from me.

He doesn't reply. He simply takes out a familiar blue carton and sits it on the table between us. After popping the lid, he grabs two spoons out of the bag. Before handing me one, he gets a scoop of ice cream and holds it to my mouth. I'm caught off guard and trying not to show it, so I slowly open my mouth and take in the ice cream, letting it melt on my tongue.

Chunks of fudge and bits of brownie tantalize with the underlying flavor of delicious coffee, and it makes me moan my approval. Closing my eyes, I swallow it down.

I hear Edward clear his throat, and I open my eyes to see him biting his lip and shaking his head. Without saying anything, he hands me the now empty spoon and shifts in his chair.

"I, uh… I was hoping you'd like it."

"I've never had this one before," I tell him, going in for another bite. If he expected me to be ladylike and not take big heaping spoonfuls, he's mistaken. I watch him as he watches me. "It's delicious."

"I stood in the aisle for at least fifteen minutes trying to decide which one to buy."

I smile because I used to do the same thing, but it's been a while. I bought a couple of pints a few weeks ago, but I took the easy road and bought plain vanilla and Phish Food.

"This one made me think of you," he says, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. He turns the carton around, and I look at the name: Brewed to Matter. I give him a smile before popping another bite into my mouth.

"I always pictured myself as vanilla," I admit.

"You're so not vanilla."

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

A HUGE thank you to our amazing team for getting this back to us so quickly: our kick-ass beta, Geekchic12, and our awesome pre-readers, Rachel and Pamela (who is on da cruise, but here in spirit). We love y'all more than our luggage!

We hope you enjoyed the chapter and that everyone had a fun and safe holiday weekend. Hope Tuesday doesn't feel like Monday and y'all have a great week! See ya Friday!

XOXO,

Jiffy Kate


	25. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 24**

It's only two weeks until my finals, so I'm spending extra time studying at the library today. It's Sunday, and normally I'd be having coffee with Alice and Rose, but instead, I grabbed a cup and came straight here. I thought about going over to Freedmont today and trying to visit with Renee and see Edward, but I'm not sure.

I mean, I definitely want to see Edward, but I can see him when he gets off work later.

Renee, I'm not so sure about. I'm trying not to push and to allow her to have her solitude, if that's what she needs to get better, but it's hard.

Taking the last sip of my coffee, I walk over and toss it in the trash can, stretching my legs and arms for a second.

Sitting back down at the computer, I settle in for more studying, losing myself in the chapters and notes in front of me. When my phone rings, I let it go to my voicemail. I assume it's Alice or Rose wanting to tell me it's time for a break, but when I pull it out of my bag, there's a missed call from Freedmont on the screen. I wait for a voicemail to come through, but one never does. A few minutes later, it rings again, and I answer.

"Hello?"

"Isabella Swan?" the man on the other end asks.

"Yes, this is she."

"Ms. Swan, we need you to come to Freedmont Rehabilitation Center."

"Oh… okay. Is Renee okay?"

"This is Dr. Jackson. I'm your mother's physician here at Freedmont. I need to speak to you in person at your earliest opportunity." His tone is very no-nonsense and direct.

"I can be there in thirty minutes," I tell him, shoving my notes and pen into my bag.

"I'll see you when you get here."

He doesn't give me a chance to say anything else, and I sit there for a minute, staring at the phone and wondering what his call was about. Maybe Renee wants to see me?

As I make my way out of the library, I begin analyzing what he said and how he said it. By the time I'm halfway there, I've exhausted every scenario, and I'm out of breath from switching between walking and jogging.

Twenty minutes later, I'm opening the doors of the rehab and walking up to the desk. A familiar lady with brown hair in a tight bun greets me with a small smile. "Can I help you?" she asks.

"Bella Swan," I say, offering her my driver's license. "Dr. Jackson called and asked me to come here to speak with him."

She takes my I.D. and makes a call, letting someone know I'm here. When she hangs up, she motions to the wall of chairs, telling me I can have a seat and Dr. Jackson will be out to speak to me in a few minutes.

Her tone of voice is even, not giving anything away. I glance back at her when I feel her eyes on me, but when she sees me turn around, she averts her gaze, looking back to the computer screen in front of her.

Sitting down in the stiff blue chair, I look around the waiting area and try to distract myself… try to keep myself from wondering, thinking, over-analyzing.

When the door to my right buzzes and then opens, I look up to see a man in a white lab coat with neatly combed salt and pepper hair and glasses that sit on the tip of his nose walking toward me.

"Isabella Swan?"

"Yes, sir." My nerves are suddenly on high alert, and my palms are sweaty.

"Would you like to follow me to my office?"

 _Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?_

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

"Please follow me."

I do as he asks and follow him back through the door that buzzes when he opens it. I've never been down this hall. It's not stark white like the other hall where the therapy rooms are located. It has striped wallpaper and looks like a typical doctor's office. He stops at the first door and holds it open for me while I walk in, and I take a seat in the leather chair across from his desk.

He sits down on the other side and folds his hands.

"Is Renee okay?" I ask for what feels like the hundredth time. My voice sounds a little desperate because I'm starting to feel that way.

I've never been here.

I've never seen him before.

"Renee is gone."

"What?" I ask, confused. "She can't just leave. Can she?"

"I'm sorry to tell you this." His voice softens, and he reaches across the desk, covering my hand with his. "But your mother died."

"Died?"

"She was recently released back into group therapy, which also allowed her to be off of suicide watch and in a joint room." He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. Letting out a deep breath, he continues. "Her roommate found her this morning."

"She died?" I ask again because I can't process what he's telling me. "How did she die?"

I feel numb.

I feel like I'm hovering above myself, watching me talk to the doctor sitting across from me.

I feel like I should be crying, but I'm not.

"She took a piece of a sheet and tied it to a vent in the bathroom..."

I hear the words, but I can't make sense of them. His voice goes from a monotone, soothing sound to a droning noise, buzzing in my ear like the door we passed through a few minutes ago.

"She's dead?" I ask, interrupting the buzzing. "But I didn't get to see her. How could she die?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Swan. Is there anyone I can call for you? Anything I can do?"

"No." I can't look at him. I focus on the thin lines in the tile beneath my feet and try to wrap my mind around what he's been telling me.

Dead.

I need air.

I can't breathe.

"I've gotta go," I tell him. "Is there anything I need to do?" I hear myself talk, but it doesn't sound like me. It's not scared or sad or freaking the fuck out, and I'm all of those.

"You can view the body, if you'd like. I can give you the contact information."

"No." I don't want that. I don't want to see her. She didn't want to see me.

"If you change your mind, you can call here. Anytime. If you need someone to talk to…"

"Thank you." I stand from the chair and walk back out into the hallway with the nice wallpaper and through the door that buzzes, and I run for the doors that I know lead to fresh air and floors that aren't tiled. I run until I see grass under my feet, and then I fall to my knees, taking deep breaths, hoping I won't pass out. My heart is now hammering in my chest, and I feel like I might die… like Renee.

She's dead.

Oh, God.

My head feels light.

I'm breathing so hard that my lungs physically hurt.

A sob breaks free from my throat, and I feel someone touch my back.

"I'm here," he says.

Two words. Two words, and I feel like I might not die.

"She died. She's gone," I whisper.

"I know." Edward's voice cracks, but his arms are strong as they wrap around me, and he allows me to cling to him.

"I didn't even get to see her… or say goodbye."

"I know, and I'm so sorry." His lips press to the top of my head, and I feel his chest shudder.

And then I lose it… everything. I cry and allow my grief to consume me. I forget where I am and what time it is. I barely remember being lifted up and put into a car and then lifted again and placed on something soft. I don't know how long I cry, and sometimes I forget why, but then it hits me again… She's gone.

I eventually fall asleep with strong arms wrapped around me. Edward doesn't have to say anything. His presence is like a soothing balm.

Sometime later, I wake up, and the room I'm in is dark. The only light is an alarm clock on the nightstand and a faint light coming from a closed door. When I stir, the arms that have been holding me together loosen, and Edward brushes the hair away from my face.

"Can I get you anything?" he asks.

I shake my head, afraid if I answer I'll start crying again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head again, but his question gets my mind turning. Renee died. She hung herself... with a sheet.

"Why?" I croak out, my voice hoarse. "Why would she do that?"

"I don't know." His voice is deep and raspy, like he's been crying too. "Sometimes, the addiction is too much to bear, or the weight of guilt begins to crush you…"

"I forgave her. I needed to tell her that."

"She knew."

"I feel… guilty," I tell him, trying to make sense of the emotions rushing through me.

"Why?" he asks, sitting up and facing me. "Bella, none of this is your fault. Do you hear me?" There's fierceness there where sadness had been before. "None."

"I feel bad because I almost feel relieved." I whisper that out into the darkness and hope he can't hear me, because how can a daughter feel that way? How can someone be relieved that their mother is gone?

"That's normal, Bella." His hands cup my face, and he brushes tears away with his thumbs "Renee has been sick for a long time… your whole life. It's like cancer or anything else. You've watched her suffer, and you've suffered along with her. Feeling relieved that she's no longer hurting isn't a bad thing."

"I can't believe she's gone."

"I know."

We sit there for a few minutes, or maybe hours. I'm not sure. Edward eventually moves back beside me, leaning against the headboard and pulling me into him. His gentle strokes down my back lull me back to sleep, but it's restless. I have intermittent dreams of Renee and Charlie, and then one time, I fall asleep, and I'm alone in a dark room. The walls start to feel like they're closing in on me, and I wake up gasping for air.

"Are you okay?" Edward asks, sleep thick in his voice.

"I… I felt like I couldn't breathe."

He sits up and turns a lamp on, and for the first time, I realize where I am.

His room.

His apartment.

"Just take some deep breaths," he soothes, running a hand down my hair. "I'll go get you a cup of water."

When he stands to walk out, I recognize the gray sweatpants. He's also wearing a white t-shirt that hugs his chest and his back. "I'll be right back," he assures before walking out of the bedroom.

This is surreal.

I've wondered what this room would look like, and now I'm here. I pinch myself under the blanket just to make sure I'm not still dreaming.

"Here's some water, and I brought some Tylenol for you to take. You'll need it in the morning."

"What time is it?"

"Just a little after midnight."

I take a drink of the water and swallow two Tylenol. My head does have a dull throb, and my eyes feel swollen.

"Alice," I say, realizing I went straight from the library to the rehab, and then nothing… I can't remember anything after that. "She'll be worried."

The guilt I was feeling earlier is coming back, but now it's because I feel like the worst friend.

And daughter.

My mom is gone.

I bite down on my lip to try to keep from crying again. I don't know how I have any tears left to shed.

"She called earlier," Edward murmurs, watching me from the edge of the bed. "I told her."

He told her?

"You talked to Alice?"

"Yeah, she called several times, and you were sleeping. I thought you should rest, so I answered it, and I didn't want to not tell her… I'm sorry. I probably should've—"

"No." I stop him. "Thank you. I'll call her in the morning."

"She wanted to come and get you, but I couldn't let you go. I needed you here with me… I had to make sure you were okay," he says, but he's not apologizing for this.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It was selfish. I just…" He drifts off, shaking his head. "I just needed you, needed to be close to you."

I crawl across the bed and into his lap, curling up and sinking into his warmth. When the overwhelming grief starts to wash over me again, I inhale him, and somehow he grounds me, keeping me from the black hole that is merely inches away, wanting to suck me in.

"I'm here… and I'm not going anywhere," he whispers.

I spend the rest of the night sleeping for an hour or so and then waking up. Sometimes, Edward and I talk. Other times, I cry, and he holds me. But he's true to his word, and he never leaves.

For the last hour before dawn, I lie in Edward's bed awake. This is the first day that my mom isn't here. The first sunrise she won't see. And I'm trying to figure out how I'm supposed to feel about it. Sad that she's not here? Guilty that I am? Guilty that I'm relieved? Happy that she's no longer suffering?

When a man in a white coat tells you your only living parent died, he should hand you a manual so you know what to do with yourself.

I've spent my whole life worrying about Renee. Even when I was young and didn't really grasp what was going on with her, I still worried. Every time she'd leave. Every time she was there but wasn't. Every time I saw my dad cry or get angry. I always worried. I remember when I was little, my stomach would hurt. Sometimes, I wouldn't be able to eat for days after she'd leave. She never told me goodbye, so the fact that she left for good without saying goodbye seems appropriate. Shitty, but appropriate.

Now what? What am I supposed to do now that she's not here to worry about?

"I'm making you some breakfast," Edward says, kissing the back of my head. I knew he was awake. I could feel him shift beside me, reminding me he was still there.

I don't reply. I just lie there. It's all I can do right now. Besides, I don't feel hungry.

When I'm alone, the thought from last night creeps back into my mind: I'm in Edward's bedroom. The bedroom I always wondered about. As the room gets lighter from the rising sun, I'm able to take it in. The colors in here are a stark contrast from what I remember the rest of the apartment looking like. It's warm and cozy, like a cocoon. The blankets are thick and soft. The pillows are fluffy. The windows are covered with blinds and have taupe-colored sheers over them. There's a writing desk against the wall with a few books and paper scattered around.

It's Edward. Not the Edward I first saw in the window, but the Edward I know now. It's the Edward who picked me up and brought me here… the one who's in there making breakfast that I probably won't eat.

I think I love this Edward.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **We didn't plan it this way, but coincidentally, this week is National Suicide Prevention Week. This is a time to bring awareness to the alarming rise in suicide over the last four decades and a chance to show others they matter.**

 **Reach out to those around you.**

 **Everyone matters.**

 **You matter.**

 **If you or someone you know is in crisis and needs help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK(8255)**


	26. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 25**

"Bella," Edward whispers as the bed dips behind me. He's been here, just like he said he would be. It's been two days since I found out Renee is gone. Two days of feeling numb. Two days of trying to get a grasp on this new reality. Two days of Edward assuring me that the things I'm feeling are normal—not in a therapist sense, but in a way that makes me think he really does understand on a deeper level.

"Yeah," I finally say, trying my voice out for the first time in a while. Edward stayed in this bed with me for the first night and most of yesterday, but since then, he's given me some space. I'm not sure what he's doing when he's not in here, but I can still feel him, even when he's not right beside me.

"I brought you some coffee and toast." His voice sounds concerned and a little tired. "You need to eat."

I'm sure I do. It's been two days, but I don't have an appetite. Rolling onto my back, I look up at him and see how much tenderness is in his eyes, and I want to at least try, for him.

Leaning on my elbows, I pull myself up and rest against the headboard. Edward hands me a plate of toast and then walks around to my side of the bed, setting a steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand.

I watch him—watch his body as he moves in the low slung sweatpants I know so well. I've always known how beautiful he is, but being here with him, seeing him like this, he's even more beautiful than I realized. Maybe it's the way he's cared for me or the sweet words he's whispered as I've cried. Maybe it's the fact that he's cried too. Maybe it's all of it. But he's more beautiful to me in this moment than any of the moments from the past combined.

I take a small bite of the toast, but I think my taste buds are numb like the rest of me. Regardless, I continue to nibble on it, and Edward continues to watch me. The more I eat, the more at ease he seems. After I've finished half a slice, I reach for the coffee and take a sip.

"Can I make you something else?" he asks, perched on the end of the bed.

"No, this is good." I smile, trying to reassure him that I'm okay. I'm going to be okay.

Renee's death came as a shock, but it shouldn't have. Every time I got a call telling me she'd been picked up or had overdosed, I always assumed the worst. This last time she was in the hospital, I was sure that would be the last time. But then she got better. She got to live. Maybe it was naïve of me to think this time would be different, but I guess I did. I saw her pulling away, but I thought she was trying to be stronger. Now, I realize she was putting even more distance between us. She was trying to make it easier on me once she was gone.

I wonder how long she planned it.

I wonder what she was thinking.

I think the thought that continues to bring tears to my eyes is that she was alone. Was she scared? Was she sad? I'm assuming she was, because happy people don't kill themselves. I try to take comfort in Edward's words, knowing she's no longer suffering.

I'm no longer suffering.

Even though she's gone and I'm now without a parent, I feel a sense of freedom in her death. That, in turn, makes me feel guilty, but the freedom is beginning to outweigh the guilt.

"How about a hot bath once you're finished with your toast?"

I look up into Edward's deep blue eyes, and now I want to cry for a completely different reason. I want to cry because no one has ever taken care of me. Maybe Alice on occasion, but that's different. I don't know why, but it is.

I nod my head and pick up the other slice of toast.

When I'm finished, I set the plate down, and Edward takes it, walking it into the kitchen. I feel like I should get up and do something, but I don't have any energy. My body feels like it's being weighed down. Edward walks back inside the bedroom and straight into the bathroom. A few seconds later, I hear water running.

"Come take a bath," he says, leaning on the frame of the door with his hand outstretched.

It's not a question or a request. It's more like a demand, but in a gentle way—a way that makes me want to comply.

Climbing over the bed and standing, I take his hand and allow him to lead me into the bathroom. I notice a fluffy white towel sitting beside the tub and a pair of gray sweatpants like the ones he's wearing, along with a t-shirt folded up, sitting on the counter.

"I put a washcloth out for you… and a towel and clothes… " His voice drifts, but he never takes his eyes off me. "I'll be out here if you need me." He points over his shoulder.

I nod and watch him close the door. I want to beg him to stay, but I don't feel ready to bare my body to him. My soul and heart, maybe, but my body, not yet.

Stripping out of the clothes I've been wearing for two days, I stick a toe in the water, testing the heat, and it's perfect. As I step into the tub and sink down, my body is slowly engulfed, and I feel ten times lighter by the time the water hits my chin.

For the first twenty minutes or so, I just soak. I stare at my reflection in the shiny faucet and let my mind go blank. After a while, it's like I'm in a state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

A light tap on the door startles me, and I splash water as I reach for the towel.

"Bella?" Edward's voice comes from the other side.

"Yes?"

"Just checking to make sure you're... okay." He hesitates, but I know he's still there because I can hear his fingers drumming lightly on the door. "Do you need anything?"

"No. I'll be out in a minute."

I drain some of the now lukewarm water and fill the tub back up with more hot water. Reaching for the body wash, I inhale it and close my eyes. It's a little part of what makes up Edward's smell, and I love it.

After I'm dried off and standing in front of the mirror in Edward's clothes, I stare at myself. My eyes are tinged pink, and the skin under them is dark, but I'm still here.

Renee is gone, but I'm still here.

When I open the door, Edward is there, and his arms immediately wrap around me. "Sorry. I just needed to be close to you," he whispers, but I have no idea why he's apologizing. I need this more than he does. It's me who should be apologizing for making him put his life on hold to take care of me.

"I'm sorry," I mutter against his chest.

"For what?" he asks softly.

"For keeping you from your job. I'm sure you've had to call in to work by now." Even though I am sorry, it doesn't keep me from clinging to him and greedily breathing him in.

"There's no place I'd rather be."

**WaS**

"Alice," Edward says with sleep in his voice, handing me my phone.

It's the middle of the afternoon, but I didn't sleep well last night, which means Edward didn't sleep well either. He sat up with me, listened to me, and comforted me until the sun rose from behind the blinds. After breakfast, we snuggled back up in his bed and went back to sleep.

"I should answer. She'll keep calling." I take the phone from him. "Hey, Alice."

"Thank God," her relieved voice says from the other end. "Bella, sweetie… " She pauses, and I feel the emotions thick in my throat. "God... I'm so sorry."

"I know." I don't know what else to say. Talking to Alice makes me realize that I'm eventually going to have to face the real world. I can't hide away in Edward's bed forever. I haven't seen anything or anyone besides these four walls and him since Sunday.

"Come home," she pleads. "I need to see you with my own eyes and know that you're okay. Please."

"I will." I need to. I know that.

"Is there anything I need to do? Anyone I need to call for you?" she asks.

There's no one.

Just me.

I clear my throat to keep from crying. "Uh, no. I'll have to go up and sign some papers at the rehab and pick up Renee's things, but that's it."

"Okay, well, come home. Do you want me to come get you?"

I look over at Edward, and he's watching me from his pillow. God, I don't want to leave. Ever.

"No, I'll… I'll be home later today." His eyebrows furrow, and I wonder if he needs me to leave sooner. "Or sooner, but you don't need to come get me. I can make it home on my own."

Alice sighs. "Okay, but call me if you change your mind or need anything," she demands.

"Okay."

"I love you. You're not alone. You know that, right?"

"Yes," I answer. "I know. I love you."

I hang up the phone and hold it in my lap. "I should go. I can't hide here forever."

"Yes, you can." He sits up beside me and takes my hand into his. "You can stay here as long as you want… days, weeks, months… years… forever."

I look up at him, and there's just sincerity there. He bends his head down and takes my lips with his. The kiss is slow, not needy or desperate, but more like a promise.

He's not going anywhere.

"I've gotta go home and see Alice. She's worried."

"I know," he says, letting out a deep sigh and leaning his forehead against mine. "Will you at least stay for lunch?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

Edward climbs out of bed and walks toward the bathroom, and once again, I'm mesmerized by the muscles in his back and the way they move when he walks, and those damn gray sweatpants.

"I'm going to shower, and then I'll go pick something up. The only thing I could make us is ramen noodles, and I've eaten them for the last two days."

I smile. It's probably the first time I've smiled in three days, and it feels good.

He disappears into the bathroom, the door closing behind him, and my mind races with thoughts of him being naked behind there. I've seen him. That's no secret or mystery, but that was a long time ago, and it was under a world of different circumstances. I want to see him without a window or secrets between us.

When I hear the doorknob on the bathroom twist, my heart leaps, and my breathing picks up. He pokes his head around the door, not exposing anything but his bare chest. "You can watch television or go into the living room," he says. "I know you've been cooped up in this bedroom for a few days. Might do you some good to see a different set of walls."

I nod, and he closes the door again. A minute or so later, I hear water running and then the rush of the shower. My eyes go from the door of the bathroom to the door leading out to the rest of the apartment.

Slipping out of bed, I walk softly to the door. As I open it, I peek my head out, taking in the space I memorized—the sleek lines, hard surfaces, cold colors. It's everything this bedroom isn't. It's like this space represents the Edward he gives to the world, and his bedroom is everything he is inside… the Edward he's slowly starting to give to me.

**WaS**

When the taxi pulls up in front of Alice and Jasper's building, I take a deep breath and reach for the handle. "If you need me, I'm only a phone call away. I'll be here." Edward's words soothe me, but I know I need to do this.

Life will continue.

The world will keep spinning.

I turn and look at him, putting on the best smile I can. "I will. I'll be fine. I'm going back to work tomorrow, so—"

"If you need more time, I can help you."

I know what he means. He'd pay my rent or whatever, but I can't let him do that. I can take care of me. I've been doing it for a long time. That's a constant—something I can depend on.

"Thank you," I tell him, cupping his cheeks and running my thumbs over them. "Thank you for taking care of me and for being there for me. No one has ever done that for me."

"They should have, Bella," he whispers.

I swallow down the lump in my throat and kiss his cheek and then his lips, closing my eyes and breathing him in. "Thank you," I whisper again.

"Get some rest. I'll call you later tonight."

I nod, and he pulls me in for one last kiss.

Standing on the curb, I wave and immediately miss him, even though he's still there. He doesn't leave until I'm inside the building. My anxiety builds as I ride the elevator up to the apartment.

Alice must've been watching from the window because the door opens as soon as I step out of the elevator. She meets me in the middle of the hallway, wrapping her arms around me and holding me tightly.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbles. "I know Renee wasn't a good mom, but she was yours, and I know you've tried so hard all of these years to help her to get better. You just wanted her to love you." She sniffles and squeezes me harder. "She did. She loved you in her own way. She just didn't know how to show it."

I want to believe her. I want to believe that Renee loved me.

**WaS**

It's been five days since Renee died.

Five days isn't enough time to grieve, but I'm back at work today. After hiding away in Edward's bed for three days and then letting Alice hover over me for another day, I need this. I need normal. I need the library and people who don't know my junkie mother hung herself without saying goodbye.

Alice and I walk arm in arm down the sidewalk like we've done on so many mornings, but for obvious reasons, this one feels different.

"Coffee?" Alice asks as we get closer to our coffee shop.

"Stupid question," I tell her.

I need coffee like I need air to breathe, like I need Edward.

I've talked to him almost every few hours since he dropped me off on Wednesday, but I need to see him. I miss him. I miss the warmth I feel when he's next to me.

Alice and I walk in, she orders for me, and then we shift down to the end of the counter to wait for our drinks. Her arm tightens around mine, and she leans her head over on my shoulder. "You sure you're up for work today? Rose said she would give you some of her PT hours."

"She doesn't have to do that. I'm fine." I sigh and rest my head on top of Alice's. "I need work."

"Yeah, I get it."

"Besides, if Emmett was right, Rose will need all the PT hours she can get."

Alice snickers beside me. "Oh, God. Can you imagine Rose as a mom?"

"Yeah, actually, I can."

"Me too. It's weird, but I can see her being a good mom."

"Hopefully she loosens up a little, though. That poor kid will feel like he has a drill sergeant for a mom." We both laugh, thinking of Rose and a baby. She doesn't do well with messes. "But at least she'll be there."

"Yeah."

That's something Alice and I both know all too well.

Once we get to the library, Rose practically attacks me. Her light sob into my shoulder tells me that Emmett is definitely right. Rose isn't a crier. "I'm sorry," she says, sniffling. "You know how I feel about her, but she was your mom… and, well…" She sniffles again, and I find myself patting her back, comforting her. "She was your mom, and now she's gone, and that sucks for you. Life sucks sometimes."

"It does." I squeeze her until she stops crying. The fact that I'm not crying is a huge step. Everything has made me cry over the past several days.

"Let's get to work," Alice encourages, handing Rose a tissue and keeping one for herself.

The three of us walk out into the library and fall into our normal routine, and it feels good.

**WaS**

Walking up the sidewalk of Freedmont, I grasp Alice's hand tighter. Just seeing the doors makes my throat tighten. I'm ready to be done with this place, or at least this task. Since Edward works here, I'm sure this won't be the last time I grace these doors, but this will be the last time I come here as Renee Swan's daughter.

They called late yesterday to inform me that there are a few papers that need to be signed, and they have a box of Renee's belongings for me to pick up.

"You okay?" Alice asks.

"Yeah." I nod my head and try to take deep, even breaths. "I'm okay," I tell her, but it's more for me.

When we pass through the front doors, Edward is standing there, waiting for us. He walks up and wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into him and inhaling deeply. "God, I missed you."

"Same," I tell him, planting my face in his chest.

"You ready to get this over with?" he asks.

I nod.

He loosens his hold on me and looks over at Alice. "Hi, Alice."

This is the first time they're actually seeing each other. I've wanted them to meet, but I didn't quite expect it to be like this.

"Hi, Edward," Alice greets, stepping in and giving him a hug. Alice doesn't have a lot of boundaries. The gesture causes Edward to freeze, but eventually, he pats her back and awkwardly hugs her back. "Thank you for taking care of Bella," she tells him, and his posture softens.

"No need to thank me," Edward says.

Alice steps back beside me and takes my hand again.

I walk up to the counter and give them my driver's license. The lady directs me to a desk where a caseworker is sitting. She briefly goes over each piece of paper, and I sign where she tells me, kind of zoning out. None of this matters, really. It's all protocol and red tape. Edward explained it to me over the phone last night so I'd be prepared for any questions they might ask.

After I finish with the paperwork, she places a box on the desk between us. It's like one of those banker's boxes that files would be stored in, but instead, it's all of my mother's worldly possessions.

It's depressing.

"Is there anything else we can do for you?" she asks.

"No."

"Our number is in the file I've placed inside the box. It has Renee's doctor and therapist listed. Both of them would be happy to talk to you or offer their services for grief counseling."

"Thank you," I tell her, staring blankly at the box.

"Her ashes will be ready for you to pick up tomorrow. The mortuary will call you when they're ready, but you can pick them up at your earliest convenience."

I nod.

It all sounds so black and white, cut and dry. Renee was anything but that. She was so gray. She was a mother, but she wasn't. She was a wife, but not really. She was a daughter, but not for many years. I'm sure she was a friend to some. She loved, but she didn't know how to show it. She wasn't black and white or cut and dry.

Edward kisses my temple and whispers that he'll call me in a little while. The look he gives Alice tells her that he's worried, but I'm fine. I want to be alone. I want to go home and lock myself in my room and spend some time with my mother's things. I didn't get to say goodbye. She didn't let me. So this is my closure.

**WaS**

Sitting in the middle of my bed, I take the lid off the box.

Folded neatly on top are a pair of jeans. They've seen better days and have worn spots on the pockets… and they're small, too small. There are also two t-shirts and a sweatshirt. Nothing special or fancy. Under the clothes, there's an old journal. The pages are worn, and the cover is tattered. A rubber band wraps around it to keep it closed.

I take the journal out and look into the empty box.

Four items of clothing and an old, dilapidated journal.

That's it.

I hope, one of these days, when it's my time to go, I have more to show for my life than this.

Opening the journal, I recognize the date at the top of the page as the first day at Freedmont.

I begin to read.

The first pages are filled with angry, confusing words. I can easily recognize the ramblings of a detoxing Renee. I remember how she was those first few days when I went to visit her. She was mad at the world; mad at me. She hated everyone. She hated the court for ordering her there. She hated the doctors for taking her beloved drugs from her. She hated herself for being weak. She hated me for existing.

Eventually, the hatred morphs into sadness, and it pours off the page. The words are those of a woman who saw no light in the world. The dark voices in her head were louder than any therapist, any doctor. She didn't see a way out, no way to change or be different. The drugs were her. She was the drugs. Separating the two wasn't possible. Without them, she didn't exist.

There's a part where I can see the therapy working. She writes about memories with my dad or as a dancer. It must've been a point in her recovery where she could appreciate the sober times, remembering what life was like without drugs.

She wrote about the words she spoke to me. She admitted to herself in this journal that they were all lies, and she grieved over hurting me. The words are splotchy from tears hitting the page, and a few of mine mix with hers.

The entry from the day she was transferred back to Freedmont after almost dying in the hospital is the one that hits me the hardest.

 _I should've died._

 _I don't deserve to live._

 _I want to die._

I think they make my heart hurt so bad because I thought those same words.

From there on, the journal is once again filled with darkness. It's not the hate-filled words from the beginning, but more resolved.

 _Why do I use?_

 _That's the question I'm supposed to ask myself today. Why do I use? Where did it start? When was my first time? Those questions seem so easy to answer, but they're not. Oh, I remember the first time, and I remember why, but remembering only makes me want to use. Remembering doesn't make me want to do anything less than forget… or die. Since I can't use to forget, I guess I'll die. I tried, and they stopped me. I'll have to be more careful next time._

I hiccup as a sob rips through me.

I want to reach through the pages and hug her. Instead, I lie down on my bed and hug the journal.

I watch as the minutes and then hours tick by on the clock, the blue lights lull me into nothingness. Pulling the journal out from under me, I hold it up and flip to the last part I read. There's more, and I want to finish.

 _November 8th_

 _My Bella,_

 _I'm sorry. I know you've probably heard that from too many people by the time you read this, but I need you to know that I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that you've lived your life taking care of yourself. I'm sorry for every time you felt alone or unloved. I'm sorry for every tear you've cried because of me. I'm sorry for your struggles. You never asked for any of this, and none of it was your fault._

 _What you need to know and always remember is that you were loved. Your father and I loved each other, and we loved you. Sometimes in life, we don't get to choose our paths. I was only thirteen the first time I smoked a joint. It was the day my next door neighbor's father touched me for the first time. I smoked a joint that day to forget what happened, to try to erase it from my memory. I kept using drugs to mask the ugliness in my life, and then I couldn't stop. Your father wanted to save me, and I wanted him to so bad… for me, for him… for you. But we don't always get what we want._

 _My one wish is that you do get what you want._

 _Edward loves you. I don't know if he's told you, but he does. I knew from the first time I met him that he would be someone who would care for you the way you need to be cared for. I remember sitting in our first therapy session, and I thought if I could choose someone for you, it would be him. I know he's not perfect, but nobody's perfect, baby. If someone seems perfect, they're hiding something. Always remember that._

 _This is hard. I know you're going through a lot of emotions right now, and once again, I'm sorry. But it's going to be better. You're going to be okay. You're the strongest person I know, so much like your father. And you're good, Bella. You're so good. Don't let me ruin that. Don't let me take away the good. Be better than me. Do more with your life. Love and be loved._

 _Thank you for the Kit Kat._

 _Thank you for being the best daughter anyone could ask for and more than I ever deserved._

 _I love you,_

 _Mom_

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate: *deep breath*** We know these last two chapters have been tough, but this is the closure that Bella has needed.

 **Jiff:** Finally, Bella gets something positive from Renee. It's sad it was in paper form but at least it was something.

 **Jenny Kate:** Thanks for hanging in there with us. We really appreciate the support we've received for this story. And a huge thank you to our amazing team: Geekchic12, Pamela, and Rachel! We love you guys!

Hope everyone has a great week. We'll see ya on Friday!


	27. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 26**

 **EPOV**

 **Morning, beautiful. Have any big plans for your day off?**

I smile as I see the moving dots on my text screen, signaling that Bella is sending me a reply. I wanted to text her an hour ago but made myself hold off until now. She needs to get as much sleep as she can, even if I'm anxious to see her.

 _ **Nope. I mean, my sock drawer could always use some organizing, but I'm open to other suggestions.**_

 **Perfect. I'll pick you up in an hour. Make sure to dress warmly. Can't wait to see you.**

 _ **See you soon.**_

Pocketing my phone, I walk into the kitchen to fix my second cup of coffee for the day. As excited as I am to be spending the day with Bella, I'm also nervous. The plans I have for us aren't fun. I wish they were. Bella needs some fun. But today is the day I lay everything out in the open for her.

Today is the day I tell her the truth about my past.

Today is the day I fully give myself to the woman I love.

Today could be the day she rejects me and leaves me forever, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.

When I knock on Alice and Jasper's door, I'm greeted with a smile and a hug from Bella's best friend. I really like Alice, and I'm grateful for how supportive she's been of Bella.

"Come in, Edward. Bella's just getting her bag. She's been giddy ever since she got your text."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who's excited," I say with a small laugh.

"Oh, definitely not. She's changed outfits at least four times already."

"Shut it, Alice," Bella fusses when she walks into the living room. "Besides, I only changed three times." She smiles, then gives me a quick peck on the lips.

"You don't have to change clothes for me. I happen to think you're perfect no matter what," I murmur in her ear before kissing it.

"All right, you two. Get out before I'm overcome with nausea," Alice commands.

"Serves you right." Bella gives Alice a pointed look, then yells over her shoulder as we walk out the door, "Don't wait up."

We hold hands as we walk outside, and I revel in the realization of how… normal it feels to be with her like this. I like it. A whole fucking lot.

I unlock the back door of the car and place Bella's bag inside before opening the passenger-side door for her. "I didn't know you had a car," she says.

"I don't. This is Jane's car. She let me borrow it today."

As I sit in the driver's seat and buckle up, I notice Bella's fidgeting hands. "Are you okay?"

She takes a deep breath before answering. "It makes me a little uncomfortable to be in her car. I've… _seen_ you two together, you know."

Shit.

All the guilt and shame from my life before slams into me, leaving me winded. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, willing myself to focus on the changes I've made, the obstacles I've overcome just to be here with Bella. I'll always dislike the man I was back then, but I can't let him keep me from being the man I am now, the one I want to become.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. It never occurred to me that you would feel this way. Yes, Jane and I were together a couple of times, but it was only as two stressed-out coworkers needing a release. There has never been anything romantic between us. We're only friends. I promise."

"It's okay. I believe you."

"I'll call Jane and tell her we don't need her car, and then you and I can take a cab instead." I grab my phone out of my coat pocket, but before I can dial Jane's number, Bella's hand covers mine.

"It's fine, Edward. Really. I'm sorry. I overreacted. Let's just go."

"You're not overreacting. I'm the asshole here. I didn't even consider the fact that my friendship with Jane would hurt you, and now I've ruined our day."

"Now who's overreacting?" she asks, giving me a small smile. "It's not ruined. Nothing is going to ruin this day. It's just a car that was lent to you by a friend, nothing more. Okay?"

I nod my head before leaning over and kissing her. She places her hands on my cheeks to hold me in place just as her tongue slides into my mouth. She's looking for reassurance, and I'll do anything to give it to her.

Our kiss deepens, and soon, our insecurities fade away only to be replaced by desire and need. I force myself to pull away, resting my forehead against hers. "It's you, Bella. Only you," I whisper against her lips.

"We could always have sex in the back seat of her car," she mumbles. "I think it'd make both of us feel better."

My eyes go wide as I pull back and look at her, not sure how to react. The blush that's spreading across her face tells me her verbal filter is on the fritz again, and I chuckle.

"Believe me, that's a very tempting idea. Maybe one day it can happen, but not today. The first time I'm inside you will not be in the backseat of someone else's car. _That,_ I can guarantee." I kiss her again, then turn back to the steering wheel, adjusting my hardened dick. Hearing Bella talk like that and the mental image that surfaced from her words have me ready to take her right this instant, but I refuse to give in. She deserves better than that, and I'm starting to believe I do, too.

"So, where are we going?" We've been on the road for about an hour, and this is the first time Bella has asked about my plans for today.

"I'm taking you to my hometown."

She looks surprised by my answer, so I clarify. "Well, not to Mason's Island, exactly. I'm taking you somewhere close to where I grew up and then to one other place, maybe. I know it's not a very exciting date, but what I have to show you is very important to me and something I've never shared with anyone else."

Bella gives me a thoughtful smile, like she's trying to decipher my words, but that's all I give her for now.

It's a picture-perfect fall day, and the beautiful scenery makes our drive even more enjoyable. During our long drive, Bella and I talk about anything and everything, and the quiet times in between conversations are pleasant, not awkward at all. It's been a very long time since I've felt this comfortable around a woman. There's no pressure with Bella. I truly love being in her presence, and the fact that we've been in the car together for almost three hours straight and haven't run out of things to talk about amazes me.

When we enter the town of Mystic, Connecticut, I tell Bella we're almost to our destination. She sits up straight and watches out of her window, like she's trying to solve a mystery. Maybe she is. Maybe I'm that mystery. I'm hoping that after today, I won't be anymore and that she'll still want me once she knows everything.

Once we're at our first stop, I park the car on the side of the road, get out, and open Bella's door for her. She's absolutely adorable as she puts on her gloves and pulls a beanie over her head. I tug on her coat, making sure she's bundled up before covering her ears with her hat.

"Warm enough?" I ask.

Bella nods her head and grabs my hand, ready for me to lead the way. As we walk through the gate and it becomes obvious where we are, I turn and look at her, trying to gauge her reaction. I notice as she swallows deeply, but her face is determined. She's so fucking strong.

"I know this is an odd place for a date, but I promise, there's a reason. Do you trust me?"

"I trust you," she says, giving my hand a squeeze.

The cemetery we're in is completely empty, but it's not creepy. The different-colored leaves on the ground almost make you forget where you are until you come upon the many rows of headstones.

I've only been here a couple of times, but I remember exactly where to go. My cheeks and nose are cold from the cool wind, but my palms are sweaty, not from my gloves but from nerves over what I'm about to show Bella. The grave we stop at is simple. There are no flowers, but it still looks nice, well-kept. We stand and are quiet for a moment before I read aloud, "Sawyer Williams. Loving daughter and friend. 1989-2011."

"Who was she?"

"Sawyer was my girlfriend." Sawyer was the only woman I'd ever loved besides my mom. Until Bella, that is.

Bella stares at the tombstone like she's trying to solve a puzzle. I pull her hand toward me, and she follows me to the nearby bench. Once we're seated, I don't let go of her hand. I need to be touching her in some way to get through this admission.

"Sawyer was my best friend, girlfriend... the girl I thought I was going to marry one day. She was the only person I knew who didn't care about my circumstances. She didn't care that my mom abandoned me and left me with my alcoholic father. She just liked me for me. We went to college together, and things were great, or so I thought. I knew she was stressed and struggling to keep her grades up during our junior year, but I didn't know how bad things were until she came to me hysterical one day. She admitted that she had started taking drugs but was trying to quit. I felt so stupid. I was raised by an alcoholic, for crying out loud. How did I not know my girlfriend was using?

"I told her that I'd help her, and she agreed to quit cold turkey. After the first few weeks, things seemed to be back to normal, so I started pricing engagement rings. I mean, if we could make it through her detox, we could survive anything, right?"

I pause and try to get control of my emotions. I think about Sawyer every day, but talking about her like this breaks my heart all over again.

"She started using again, but this time, the drugs were harder. She flunked out of school, was in debt up to her eyeballs, and was a complete mess. Nothing I said or did helped. I was close to graduating with my psychology degree and used everything I'd learned to try to get her to stop using. She was miserable. We both were, but I wasn't about to give up on her. If I couldn't help her, I was going to find someone who could.

"One night, we got into a huge fight, the worst we'd ever had. I did something horrible. I told her if she didn't get clean, I was going to leave her. It was a lie, but I didn't know what else to do. I was trying to motivate her to check into a rehab center I'd found. She completely broke down and promised she'd let me take her the next day. Of course, now I know I should've taken her at that very minute, but I was so relieved that she'd agreed to go that I didn't think waiting a few more hours would hurt." Shaking my head, I look down at my hands. "I was so wrong.

"The next morning, I found her dead in our bathtub. She'd overdosed on pain pills."

Tears are running down my face, but I don't care. I look at Bella, and she's crying just like I am. I hope this isn't too much for her, with all that she's been through these past couple of weeks. I just need her to know… everything.

"I failed her, Bella. I was on my way to being a substance abuse counselor, and I couldn't even help my own girlfriend. Every patient I've ever had has been a way for me to make up for the wrongs I did with Sawyer. I know I've helped people and that I can only do so much, but it's still a punch in the gut when a patient of mine starts using again." I pause for a minute, taking a deep breath and trying to get myself together. "I failed Renee just like I did Sawyer."

"No." Bella's voice is thick and gravelly due to her crying, but her words are strong. "Don't you dare blame yourself for her mistakes. She and Sawyer were adults, and they made their own decisions. I know you tried your best with Renee, and I have no doubt you did the same with Sawyer, but their deaths are not your fault."

I nod my head but don't say anything for a while. Telling Bella about Sawyer was hard, but I'm still not finished. One more confession, and I'll be able to breathe again.

"After Sawyer died, I told myself I'd never get involved with a woman again. My mom left me. Sawyer left me. I didn't have it in me to allow someone else in, only for them to leave me too. I became bitter and lonely, but eventually, I craved the affection… the release. I needed an outlet. I knew my heart couldn't take being broken again, so I made the decision to simply use women for sex. We'd both get off without any strings attached, and it wouldn't affect my life outside of my apartment. I paid for most of their services to further the emotional distance between us even more. It became very technical. I'd meet a woman, bring her to my place, fuck her in my living room for whomever to see, and send her on her way. I was simply going through the motions… until I met you."

Bella's sob jerks me out of my thoughts, and I turn to her, pulling her to me. I want to take it all away, make it better, but I know I can't change the past. I can't change the shit that's happened in my life or in hers. Thanks to my sessions with Carmen, I've come to realize that there are things in life that we can't fix. All we can do is carry on, keep going, and hope that eventually we find happiness.

Bella is my happiness.

She's the silver lining on a lifetime of gray clouds.

I hope I can be that for her. I hope this is the beginning and not the end. I hope that my truth isn't too much for her to bear.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into her hair. The apology is for anything and everything—for hurting her, for thinking I could use other women to forget the ones I love, and for thinking I'd be better off without her all those months ago. I'm not. I'm better with her. She makes me feel things I thought I'd never feel again. She makes me feel better about myself.

"I'm sorry too," Bella says as she exhales into my neck.

"What are you sorry for?" I ask her, holding her tighter, wanting to pull her onto my lap because I can't seem to get close enough.

"I'm sorry she left you and broke you." She wraps her arms around me, gripping the back of my jacket.

We sit there for a while, letting the cool breeze whip around us. Bella doesn't pull away from me but instead burrows deeper into me, giving me hope that the truth might bring us closer.

I exhale, feeling lighter and freer than I have in a long time. There's just one more thing I need to do today before we head home. Well, two. First, I need to feed Bella. I'm sure she's hungry, and I want to make sure she's okay before we go to the last place. If she shows any sign of needing to go home, I'll save this last stop for another day.

Kissing the top of her head, I breathe her in and hope that she's okay and that this isn't too much for her to handle. "Are you ready for some lunch?"

She nods her head against my chest but makes no move to pull away. "I'm starving."

"Let's go. I know a great place for some seafood. Do you like seafood?"

"I love it."

She finally lifts her head and looks at me with her big brown eyes that are my new favorite color. Tentatively, I place my lips on hers, but she shows me that there's no need for hesitation. Her hands hold my face, and she moves until she's practically sitting on my lap. The kiss shifts from sweet to desperate in a matter of seconds. I let her take what she needs and run my hands up her back and into her hair, giving myself over to her.

I'd gladly give her anything.

When she finally pulls away, her breaths are heavy, and her lips are pink. "Thank you," she says softly. "Thank you for telling me about Sawyer and… and about everything."

I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer. "Thank you for listening… for trusting me enough to come with me today."

"I trust you," she whispers, leaning her forehead into mine.

I know she does. I can see it in the way she looks at me, and it means everything. Having Bella's trust is the first step to having her love, and I want that more than anything I've ever wanted in my entire life.

She slips off my lap and stands, offering me her hand. After we walk in silence back to the car, I open her door for her, and she gets in, watching me as I walk around.

"Where else do you want to take me?" she asks when I get in and start the car back up.

"It's just something I need to do. You'll see." I can't talk about it. If I do, I might talk myself out of it. But I want Bella to know everything there is to know about me before we head back to the city. I don't want there to be anything keeping us apart—no secrets, no lies, no hidden pasts.

It's after the normal lunchtime when we arrive to the seaside restaurant. The blustery gray clouds make the entire scene feel like something out of a movie.

"Have you ever seen the movie _Mystic Pizza_?" I ask.

"Yeah, I love '80s movies."

"It was based off this town," I tell her. "Most of the actual filming took place somewhere else, but this is _the_ Mystic, Conneticut."

"Oh, right. Wow," she says, looking around. "That's so cool."

"Have you ever been up the coast?"

"No. I—uh… I've never been anywhere besides Middletown and New York City," she admits, biting down on her bottom lip. I watch as her eyes shift to the side. I want to show her the world. I want her to experience it with me.

I reach over and slip my fingers between hers. "We'll come up here and spend the weekend sometime. How does that sound?"

The smile that forms on her lips gives away her answer before she says it.

"I'd love that."

We go into the restaurant, and I request a table by the window. It's kind of our spot, even though we've never been here.

When the waitress comes, I order for both of us. After she leaves, I glance up to see Bella with a wistful smile on her face.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing." She shakes her head and looks out the window.

"Did you not like what I ordered?" If she doesn't, I'll change it. I'll get her anything she wants. "I'm sorry. I just thought… Well, since I've been here before and know what's good—"

"It's fine, Edward. What you ordered sounds delicious."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." She laughs lightly and smiles as she looks away. "No one's ever ordered for me before… No one's ever taken care of me like you have over the past couple of weeks. I thought those were things people only did in movies—pulling out chairs, opening doors, ordering food… drawing baths. You make me feel… special, I guess. I don't know how else to say it." There's a light blush on her cheeks, but I love that she's telling me this. I love knowing that my taking care of her is something she likes because I have no plans of stopping.

"It's how you should've always been treated."

Her eyes dart to mine, and the look she gives me is intense. I don't know if she's doubting what I've said or unsure of what she's feeling, but I want to prove it to her. I want to prove that she deserves it. She deserves to be loved and cherished.

Our food shows up, and we both begin to eat, stealing glances and exchanging small conversation, but something has changed. The air around us feels thicker, charged.

After I pay the bill, we walk back out to the car. For a moment, I consider driving back to the city and forgetting this last stop, but I'm determined. So instead of doing what I want, I do what I know I need to do, and I begin driving north.

Ten minutes later, I pull the car into the parking lot at Atria, an assisted living facility.

Nervously, I glance over to see Bella checking the place out. Her nose scrunches up, and I can tell by the expression on her face that she's confused. She's adorable.

And sexy.

I don't know how she can be both at once, but she succeeds.

"So, are we getting out?" she asks, catching me looking at her.

"Yeah." I swallow hard and take a deep breath. This is never easy for me, but today is different. This is me being vulnerable—showing Bella everything that's left to see. There's also a selfish part too; the part that knows I needed to come here and didn't want to do it alone. For the first time in a long time, I want someone else with me. I want _her_ with me. I've shut people out for so long, but not anymore.

I'm letting Bella in.

I get out of the car and jog around to Bella's side. She waits for me to open the door for her and gives me a small peck on my cheek when she gets out.

"I can tell you're nervous, but don't be," she says, taking my hand in hers. "Whatever this is, I'm okay with it."

She looks up at me and squints her eyes against the sun that threatens to peek out from behind the clouds. The understanding and acceptance that's there almost knocks me on my ass. Slipping my arms around her waist, I lift her up until her feet are off the ground, inhaling her scent and letting it coat every nerve and insecurity. "Thank you."

We walk into the building and stop at the desk. I pull out my driver's license and hand it to the receptionist. "Edward Cullen, here to see Carlisle Cullen," I tell her and feel Bella tense beside me. She slides her hand down until she finds mine, and she squeezes, letting me know she's there.

"Your father is in his room. Visiting hours are over at six o'clock."

Bella doesn't say anything on our short walk down to the room. When we get there, before I open the door, I look down and am met with her knowing eyes. They're telling me everything I need to know: it's okay, and she's not going anywhere.

I tap on the door and then open it. "Dad?"

Someone who resembles the man I once knew turns around from the chair he's sitting in and tilts his head as he looks at us. His hair is completely gray, and the worry lines around his eyes and mouth are more pronounced. The way he hunches over in his chair makes him appear at least ten years older than he actually is.

"It's Edward, Dad," I tell him as I walk into the room. Bella follows behind me, her hand still securely in mine.

He frowns, but then I see a glimpse of recognition on his face and a small smile. His eyes drift from me to Bella, and they soften as he takes her in.

"This is Bella."

"Hi, Mr. Cullen," Bella says, taking an extra step toward him and offering him her hand.

He reaches out and shakes it, and moisture gathers in his eyes. She begins to talk to him, and he watches her. I see she has the same effect on him as she does on me, and I smile.

It took me years to come to terms with Carlisle, my father, and Carlisle, the alcoholic. When he was sober, which wasn't often, he was a loving, caring man. He'd spend time with me and teach me things. He was also sweet to my mother. I remember seeing them dancing in the kitchen or holding hands on the front porch. But the alcoholic was mean and cruel, and my mother took the brunt of that cruelty. I realize now that she left to save herself. Why she didn't take me with her, I'll never know. Part of me thinks she was so broken when she left that she didn't feel like she could take care of anyone but herself.

I turn to the board by the window and scan it for a new postcard. There's one in the top corner that has a picture of statuesque redwoods on it, and I'm sure I haven't seen it before. Flipping it over, I read the postmark—Orick, CA—and see it's dated September 18th, 2015. Just like all of the other postcards filling this board, there's a simple dash with an elegant E written on the back.

"Who are you?" my dad asks suddenly. This usually happens. At first, he'll remember me, and then it's like his mind resets, and he doesn't know me from Adam.

"It's Edward, Dad."

"I don't know you." His voice gets more frantic as he tries to stand up from his chair.

"Dad," I soothe, walking closer and placing my hand on his shoulder. "You're fine. We'll go."

"I don't know you," he says again, his voice a little softer and sadder.

"It's okay. We just wanted to come by and see how you're doing. We're gonna go now. We've gotta get back to the city." I continue talking in the calm voice. When I was here a few months ago, he did the same thing. One minute, we were talking about the island and about boating, and the next minute, he was angry and thought I was someone I'm not.

Bella steps over toward the door and waits for me. I put the postcard back on the board and walk out. Once again, Bella's hand slips into mine. I look back to see my dad completely in his own world, mumbling to himself. A pang of guilt hits me in my chest, but then I let it go. I squeeze tighter to Bella's hand and begin walking back down the hallway.

"I don't know what's worse, the alcoholism or the Alzheimer's."

She lets out a deep breath and leans her head onto my shoulder.

"What was that postcard you were looking at?" she asks.

"Those are from my mother. She started sending them about five years ago. Every few months, one shows up from a different city, sometimes a different country. I guess it's her way of letting me know she's alive."

"That's better than not knowing."

"Yeah," I agree. "I guess it is."

"And your dad?"

"He's been here for six years. The forgetfulness started a long time ago, but due to the alcohol, it took a while for the doctors to diagnose him. He advanced pretty quickly, but this place has helped."

After we're in the car and driving toward the city, Bella leans her head against the seat and looks over at me. "Thank you for today."

I laugh wryly, shaking my head. "I should be thanking you."

"No, because I know it's hard for you to let people in. So thank you for not pushing me away and for showing me a piece of you."

"This is all of me," I tell her, with all the sincerity I can muster. I take her hand and place it to my lips. "I want you. I'm never pushing you away again... I'm here as long as you'll have me."

Today was hard, but I owed this to Bella. After all we've been through and the things she's seen, she deserved to know the truth.

I love her. I'm not sure if she can love me back, but I'm willing to take the risk.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** Well, now all of Edward's cards are out on the table...no more secrets or hidden pasts.

 **Jiff:** Yep, lots of info for Bella to process. Was anyone surprised to meet Carlisle?

 **Jenny Kate:** Sawyer, Carlisle, and the postcards from Esme… it's a lot for both of them.

 **Jiff:** The important thing is that they both survived the day and they did it rather well!

 **Jenny Kate:** We hope you all have survived and are still with us! Thank you so much for reading and for all of the tweets, Facebook posts, recs, and reviews!

 **JIff:** Of course we have to thank our girls, Geeky, Pamela, and Rachel! We love you, ladies, and are so very thankful for you!


	28. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer:** **We don't own Twilight or any other identifiable entities. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

 **Chapter 27**

As we get closer to the city, I steal a glance over at Bella for the hundredth time. I can't help it. She's so peaceful. Every once in a while, she makes soft moans, and I struggle with keeping my thoughts from heading to the gutter. She must be dreaming, but I don't want to wake her up. I know today was another emotional day for her in a long line of emotional days, but I hope those are coming to an end. I want to take care of her. Right now, she needs her rest, but I'm hoping she'll come home with me. I want to hold her.

I want a lot of things when it comes to Bella, but most of all, I want to know she's safe and cared for. The thought of dropping her back off at Alice and Jasper's doesn't sit well with me. I know I could see her again tomorrow, but that's not good enough.

I want her wrapped in my arms tonight.

When I make a few quick stops, Bella begins to move in her seat, twisting around and trying to get comfortable. I hope her neck doesn't hurt when she wakes up. I stopped an hour or so back up the road and adjusted her seat, covering her with my jacket.

"Edward?" she asks in a sleepy voice. Clearing her throat, she sits up straighter and rubs her eyes.

So fucking cute.

"We're back," she says, blinking her eyes as she adjusts to the lights around us.

"Yeah, almost home."

"You let me sleep." It's not a question, just a statement. "You should've woken me up."

"You needed your rest."

We pull up to another light, and I look over at her, trying to judge how she's feeling. I watch as she pulls my jacket up to her nose and inhales, closing her eyes.

A small smile pulls at my lips. I can't help it. She makes me happy. Every little quirk, every adorable look, every word she speaks—it makes me fall harder and harder.

I love her.

I don't know if she's ready to hear that or if she feels the same, but I love her.

"I want you to come home with me," I tell her, needing to know what she wants. If she'd rather I take her home, I'll understand.

She turns to look at me, her eyes locked on mine. I watch as her tongue darts out and wets her lips. Her expression is contemplative, like she's weighing her options.

"You can say no, Bella. There's no pressure, no expectations. I'm just not ready to be without you."

I can tell the moment she reaches her decision. Her head tilts up slightly, showing confidence, and her smile is natural, contagious even. "I don't want to go to Alice and Jasper's. I want to be with you."

Swallowing thickly, I try not to put too much thought into her words. Whether she wants to be with me sexually or not doesn't matter. I'm simply thrilled I'm not losing her tonight. Reaching my hand out, I caress her cheek. "We'll be there soon."

Once we're parked at my building, I open Bella's door and help her out of the car. Before I can move, she wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly.

"I had a great time today. I mean, I know it wasn't all… _happy_ , but I loved spending the day with you."

I pull back so I can see her. "I'm glad. All things considered, it really was a good day." I gently kiss her lips, but when I start to pull away, Bella's grip on my waist tightens, and she kisses me back. Hard. Adapting quickly to her intensity, I slide my tongue into her mouth.

Eventually, we separate, both of us wild-eyed and panting. "Bella, as much as I love making out with you against a car, I really want to take you upstairs right now."

"You can _take me_ anywhere you want."

Fuck me.

She'll be the death of me, I just know it.

I grab her hand, and we hurry inside the open elevator. The moment the doors close, we're on each other again, kissing and groping each other like horny teenagers. Our moans echo throughout the small space, only encouraging us more. I pin her to the wall with my hands while she wraps a leg around my waist, allowing me the perfect angle to grind my throbbing dick against her heat.

When the doors open to my floor, I lift her up so she can wrap her other leg around me, and I carry her to my apartment. Once inside, she wiggles free from my hold and takes a step back. Her eyes are dark and her cheeks flushed as she gives me a wicked grin and steps back again.

"Where are you going?"

Her fingers unbutton her coat, and she flings it onto the floor. Her sweater and t-shirt quickly follow, and soon, Bella is standing in my living room in only her bra and blue jeans. As much as I've wanted to see her undressed, this isn't how I wanted tonight to go.

"I want you to fuck me here in your living room, Edward."

No. Not yet.

I take a step toward her. "Bella, I… I can't."

Her face falls, and her arms move to cover her chest. In two long strides, I'm in front of her, pulling her arms away. "Don't do that. Don't you dare cover yourself."

"It's okay. I understand…" Her voice is shaky, and it's killing me that I've hurt her, made her feel insecure.

"I _want_ you, Bella. I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you. That's why I can't do that—fuck you—in here right now. I refuse to treat you like I treated _them_. You're so much better than that." I cradle her face in my hands, desperate for her to understand. "I want to worship you… make love to you… in my bed. Please, let me."

Her eyes are still shiny, like she might cry, but there's an added softness to her delicate features. "Okay," she whispers.

Relief flows through my body, and I scoop her up in my arms, headed straight to my room. I lay her on my bed and turn on one of my lamps. I can't wait to see her naked and ready for me. I remove all of my clothes except my boxer briefs before crawling up to Bella and undoing her jeans. She lifts her hips so I can easily pull them off her legs.

"Can I take your bra off?"

She bites her bottom lip and nods her head yes. If she's nervous, she doesn't show it. All I see is desire and want, and I hope she recognizes the same when I look at her. Unclasping her bra and pulling it away from her body is like unwrapping the best gift in the world. Her breasts are beautiful, full and round, with rosy nipples practically begging for my mouth.

"You're absolutely perfect," I tell her before pulling a tight peak into my mouth. I bite and suck at her plump flesh until her hips begin to move under me, looking for friction. I kiss every inch of her torso and stomach until I reach the edge of her panties. Sitting back on my knees, I run my hand over my straining cock, hissing through my teeth.

"You see now how much I want you? Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you, but first, I have to taste you." Bella moans as I grab the lacy material of her panties at the sides and slide them down and off. She starts to close her legs, hiding herself, but I'm not having that.

"You don't have to be shy with me. I _want_ to look at you." My voice is raspy, full of need, but I have to control myself. This is about Bella right now, not me. I put my hand on her knee, and her legs fall open. Holy shit, she's so fucking wet.

"Has anyone ever kissed you down here?" I ask as I run a finger down the length of her pussy, eliciting a shiver from her. Part of me hopes she's experienced this kind of pleasure before, but a bigger part really hopes I'm the only one who'll ever get to do this to her.

She shakes her head from side to side, and a cocky smirk tempts my lips.

"I'll take care of you. I promise."

I lift her right leg and kiss from the inside of her ankle to her knee before switching legs and making the same trail all the way to the apex of her thighs. My girl is a quivering, hot mess by the time I get back to her sweet pussy, and I won't deny her anymore.

The moment my lips kiss her clit, she bucks into me and cries out. "Mmmm… so sensitive." I spread her open with my fingers and take a long, slow lick before telling her how good she tastes. Pure honey.

Not being able to hold back any longer, I bury my face in her, nipping and sucking with wild abandon. She's lasting longer than I thought she would, so I slide one, then two fingers inside her and start to slowly pump them. Her fingers slide through my hair, then grab onto the strands tightly as she instinctively thrusts against my face. Her sounds and moans are even better than I imagined, and they encourage me to speed up my movements. I latch on to her clit and suck until she yells out my name, along with a few choice words.

I remove my fingers but continue to softly lick and kiss her folds until her body settles down. When she releases my hair from her grasp and caresses my head, I look up at her and smile. I kiss my way back up her body, making a brief stop at her tits before claiming her mouth with mine.

Breathless, she says, "That was... amazing."

"Well, there's more where that came from whenever you feel up to it," I tell her, rubbing my hard-on against her thigh. Her eyes go wide for a second, and I'm afraid I pushed her too soon.

"Bella, we don't have to do anything else if you don't want to. I swear."

"No, it's not that…"

"Are you afraid?"

"A little."

I let out a deep breath, sliding over to the side of her and cupping her face. "I haven't been with anyone since that awful night four months ago, and I have _always_ used a condom. I get tested regularly, and I promise you I'm clean."

"No, that's not it. I mean, that's good to know, but… it's just that I don't have a lot of experience. I'm not a virgin, but it's been a while since I've been with someone."

"You and Anton…"

"No, never. Not even close."

"I won't hurt you," I tell her, running my nose up her neck and kissing her lightly.

"I'm afraid I won't be good enough in bed for you." Her words are blurted out, and they completely catch me off guard. I freeze, and when I don't respond, she continues. "You've been with many women, and they all seemed to… _behave_ a certain way. I don't know if I can do that."

I lie on my back and pull her to my chest. "First, most of those women were paid to act that way, and I didn't really care if they enjoyed it or not. Second, you're _you,_ and you're real and wonderful and amazing, and I want to spend as much time as you'll let me making you feel good." She hums in acknowledgement as the tension in her body begins to loosen. "Lastly, sex is a natural thing. Just relax and enjoy how it feels. Don't worry about acting a certain way, okay?"

"None of the women I saw you with looked anything like me. I would sometimes fantasize about looking like them and wondering what it'd be like if you noticed me."

"Bella, please don't compare yourself to them. Believe me, I noticed you when we met. I was instantly attracted to you, but I knew I'd never be good enough for you."

"I'm glad you don't feel that way anymore," she whispers. I start to protest, but she stops me with her fingers pressed against my lips. "I don't want to talk about the past. I want you to make love to me."

Without another word, I roll her onto her back and kiss her passionately, moving my hand to rub between her legs until she's wet and ready for me. I yank my underwear off and take a condom out of my bedside table drawer, quickly rolling it over my dick. Sitting back on my knees between her legs, I rub my tip up and down her slit before slowly sliding inside.

Once we're completely joined, we both still, eyes locked on each other's, absorbing the intense feeling of finally being together as one.

Everything we've been through… the good, the bad, the horrible… has led us to this very moment, and I know I can never be without Bella Swan.

 **BPOV**

I've woken up in Edward's bed before, but never like this. It's like his body and my body are one. His leg is tucked between mine, and his arm is wrapped around my torso. His hand is splayed against my bare stomach. After Edward and I made love for the first time, we held each other until we fell asleep. Sometime during the night, I felt his warm lips on my skin and his hand making soft strokes between my legs, and he told me he needed me again.

Those words.

That thought.

Edward, my Edward—the combination of the man I used to fantasize about and the one I'm currently falling in love with—needing me, wanting me like that… It made me feel warm and content but also blazing with passion.

His soft, even breaths against my back lets me know he's still asleep. I want to be here when he wakes up, but my bladder is screaming at me.

As graceful as I can manage, I untangle our legs and slip out from underneath his arm, trying to not wake him. Once I'm standing, I turn back around and watch as he reaches out to the empty bed. His hand searches for me, and it pulls at my heart. I want to crawl back in bed. Hurrying to the bathroom, I take care of business and then wash my hands. Standing in front of the mirror, I see a completely different Bella than the last time I stood here. That Bella was trying to make sense of her life. She was struggling to understand how her mother could leave her, and she was grasping for closure. This Bella… she's stronger and more alive. She knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to take the risks to get it.

I smile at myself in the mirror.

Something inside me has changed. I can't put my finger on it, and I'm not going to overanalyze it, but it feels good.

Walking back into the bedroom, I think about crawling back into bed with Edward, but he's sleeping so peacefully. I don't want to wake him. So instead, I grab his shirt off the floor and slip it over my head.

I step out into the living room and find my bag where I discarded it by the door last night when Edward and I were kissing. I smile at that thought and touch my lips. They still feel swollen. I still feel him, everywhere.

After digging through my bag, I find my phone and shoot Alice a quick text, telling her I'm back in town and that I spent the night at Edward's. She immediately sends back a bunch of stupid emoticons followed up with a message that simply says: DETAILS.

I roll my eyes and toss my phone back in my bag.

Looking around the apartment, I get that same surreal feeling I had the last time. I walk over to the window and press my hands against the glass. I glance across the way and lock onto Mr. Chan's building. My old apartment window looks dark, and it's too far away to see detail. I try to imagine myself in that window, but I can't. That seems like so long ago. And honestly, I don't want to. I don't want to live in the past. I want to live in the now.

I take a deep breath in and let it out, resting my forehead against the glass. There was a time when I wanted to rewind my life. I wanted to take back things I had seen, things I had done, but now I know that all of those things led me here. And here is where I want to be.

An hour or so later, I'm sitting on Edward's couch, nursing my second cup of coffee when I hear my name from the bedroom.

"Bella?" There's a little worry in his voice, and I stand to go to him when he appears in the doorway. "You're here," he says, smiling sleepily.

"Where else would I be?" I ask, shrugging my shoulders. "You want coffee?"

"I want you."

I fight the smile, but I lose. Shaking my head, I place my coffee cup down on the side table and walk over to him.

"You look so fucking good in my shirt," he says, burying his face in my neck. He lifts me off my feet and holds me tightly against him. "Stay with me today."

"Okay." I smile over his shoulder. He didn't have to convince me.

"How about I fix you some breakfast, and then we take a shower?"

"Together?" I ask as my eyes widen. I've never taken a shower with a man before. I've seen it in movies and read about it in books, but I've never done it.

"Yes, together. I don't plan on letting you out of my sight for the rest of the day."

"Okay."

He chuckles and leans down to press his lips to mine.

Twenty minutes later, Edward makes me sit at his bar and puts a plate of eggs and bacon down in front of me. "Eat," he demands with a smirk. "You need your energy."

I can't help but giggle at his confidence. It's sexy as hell. And don't get me started on the gray sweatpants. I'll never get used to the gray sweatpants. They'll always be my achilles heel, no matter how many times I see him in them.

As I nibble on a piece of bacon, my eyes drift from my plate to Edward's back while he prepares his own plate. I watch the muscles roll under the skin when he moves. "Do you work out?" I ask.

He glances over his shoulder with a sly smile. "Are you ogling me?"

"Maybe."

"Yes."

"When?" I think I want to watch. Is that weird? I really want to see Edward all hot and sweaty.

He laughs and turns around with his plate, setting it down beside mine. "Uh, I work out at the gym at Freedmont. While I was on sabbatical, I took up running. It really helps relieve stress and work out… frustrations."

"Maybe I should run?"

He leans over and runs his nose down my neck like he did last night, and I can't help the full body shiver. "You don't need to run. I'll help you work out your stress and frustrations," he says with a husky tone.

 _Oh, God._

I close my eyes as his lips work their way up and down my neck and then to the collar of his shirt I'm wearing. "I want…" I begin but drift off, unable to make coherent sentences. He steals the words out of my mouth with each kiss.

"What do you want, Bella?" he asks as he continues to send me into another realm. "Tell me. Anything. Whatever you want." His words come out in pants between kisses, and his breath puffs against my skin, the sensation hitting a nerve that goes straight between my legs.

I glance over his shoulder and to the window, biting down on my lip to keep from moaning. "I want the window."

His head slowly comes up until he's eye level with me. His deep blue eyes meet mine, and he pauses for a moment, reading me… trying to figure out exactly what I'm asking for.

"I want you," I clarify. "But I want you to take me against the window. I want to feel what it's like to be completely consumed by you."

He thinks for a moment, placing a chaste kiss on the side of my mouth. "Tonight, when the sun goes down and all the city goes dark," he says, trailing his nose down my cheek, back to my neck. "I'll let _you_ fuck _me_ there. As long as you stay in front of me… my back to the window." He pauses, breathing deeply where I can feel his forceful exhale. "They can have me, but they can't have you. You're mine." He kisses back up my neck and then takes my lips slowly. "I want you to feel the rush. I want to make all your fantasies come true. Whatever you need, I want to give it to you. But I can't share you… You're all mine, no one else's."

His words send a current through me, flooding my body with warmth and want.

I'm his.

I haven't felt like I belong to someone in a long time, if ever.

.

.

.

.

His large palms are pressed firmly against the glass while my back rests against it, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat radiating from my body. Edward's lips make a trail from my mouth to my covered breasts. His teeth tug at my shirt until one of my nipples is exposed. Greedily, he begins sucking and nipping. Each bite sends a shot of electricity to my core. This experience is so different from last night. Last night was soft and caring. It was the two of us mending and healing. But this is raw and needy, primal almost.

The entire world behind me falls away, and the only things I can concentrate on are the sounds coming from Edward and the way he's making me feel. His erection presses into me and ignites a fire I didn't know was possible.

I watch.

I see.

I feel.

I unravel my legs from his waist, and he spins me around, allowing me to see the city lights below—feeling the surge of adrenaline from the possibility of being watched. I brace my hands against the window, and my mouth drops open as he presses up against me from behind.

"I need to be inside you," he grits out. Turning around, I take charge by beginning to unbuckle his jeans. He stands there, watching me. Just as I'm getting ready to pull them down, I turn back to the window and realize I don't want anyone seeing him either. He's mine.

"Not here," I tell him. "I want your bed."

He doesn't wait for me to say anything else, lifting me effortlessly. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. As he walks into the bedroom, I realize it was never the window I was after, only the man.

He lays me on the bed and loops his fingers through the edges of my panties, pulling them off. Once I'm bare before him, he sits back on his heels between my legs. I feel his eyes as they travel up and down my body. And like last night, my initial reaction is to hide, but the second my arms go to cover my chest, he pulls them away and anchors them to the bed.

"Remember what I told you. Don't ever hide from me. Always know that you're the most exquisite woman I've ever seen. It's like every inch of you was created just for me."

I feel my body relax at his words. The insecurities I've always had crumble away.

When he hovers over me, caging me in with his hands on either side, I lift up to meet him, begging him with my body. I want to feel him.

His mouth descends on mine, and he presses his still clothed erection into me, putting pressure exactly where I want him. "More," I plead. "I need more."

"Anything," he tells me. "I'll give you anything."

"Just you," I say with a moan. "I only want you."

His arms wrap around me, and he flips us over until I'm on top. His hands reach down, and he pulls his jeans off, along with his boxers, freeing his cock. I scoot back farther down his thighs, leaning forward and placing my mouth on the tip. Edward shivers under me, gripping the sheets beside him. "Oh, God, Bella."

That reaction gives me boldness I didn't know I had, so I go in for another taste, taking him farther into my mouth. I've never done this before, but I can tell by the sounds escaping Edward's mouth that he approves. I just want to make him feel as good as he makes me feel. Flattening my tongue, I run it up his shaft to the tip, swirling it around the top, loving the taste of him. On my next pass down, Edward's hands grab me and pull me up.

"Bella, baby. That's fucking fantastic, but if I'm not inside you in the next two seconds, I'm gonna explode."

He reaches over and takes a condom out of the drawer of the nightstand. I slide back and watch as he tears the package open and rolls the condom from the tip down his length. His hand then slips between my legs, and he runs his fingers gently through the slick heat. "So wet," he moans.

Sliding up, I rub myself against him until he slips inside. The complete fullness makes me throw my head back and let out a sigh. "So good," I tell him as I begin rocking back and forth. Edward's hands on my hips help set the pace.

"Not just good… It's fucking perfect," Edward says. "You're fucking perfect."

I look down at the man beneath me, watching as he loses himself in me… in us. When he opens his eyes and they connect with mine, I see it. I see the way he looks at me.

I see myself through his eyes. And I love what I see.

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **This is the final chapter for** _ **Watch and See**_ **. We want to thank all of you for coming on this journey with us. What started out as a drunken fantasy in a Nashville hotel room turned into so much more. Thank you for sticking with us and for all of your love and support.**

 **Our Team: Geekchic12, Rachel (Jenna Ray on FFN), and Pamela (DrivingEdward). Find them on social media and tell them they're awesome. Also, Geeky and Rachel have AH-MAZING stories on FFN. If you're looking for something else to read and haven't read them, do it and tell them we sent you.**

 **We'll have an Outtake/Futuretake for y'all on Friday. So, we'll see you then!**


	29. Outtake

**Outtake - Mr. Chan**

"Hello?" A soft, timid voice interrupts my work.

"What you need?" I ask, looking at the clock and wondering what this girl wants at 10:00 in the morning. There's work to be done, and Lin is late. Again. "Spit out, girl. I busy."

"Uh, my friend told me you might have a room that I could rent… an, uh, apartment?"

"Took sign down. No longer available."

I changed my mind. I'd thought about renting out the small space upstairs that's been empty for so long, but I don't want the headache of collecting rent and fixing problems. I have enough problems, like nieces and nephews showing up to work when they feel like it. Looking at the clock again, I let out a sigh.

I should ship Lin back to my brother in Chicago.

"Okay," the girl says. Her voice sounds defeated. "Thank you anyway."

I look up to see a young lady, probably the same age as my granddaughter. There is a bit of fear and trepidation in her eyes, and it softens me.

"Why you need apartment anyway?"

"My mother is in Freedmont. It's, uh—"

"Rehab," I say, cutting her off. I'm not stupid. I know what Freedmont is. I've lived in this neighborhood for over fifty years. I've seen and heard a lot. I look at the girl carefully. She doesn't look like she's a druggie. Her arms are clean, and her eyes are clear.

"Yes, sir. I'm looking for a place to stay to be closer to her."

"You live alone?" A girl her age and as pretty as she is should not live alone in the city. Too dangerous.

"Yes. No pets or anything." She bites her lip as a hopeful expression begins to form on her face.

I think about it for a minute, and I can't turn her away. Living alone in the city is not only dangerous, it's expensive. "Fine. I rent you room. Two hundred dollars a week. I pay water and electric. You take trash to dumpster out back. No funny business."

"Really?" she asks with an edge of excitement in her voice.

"You may change mind after you see room." I wipe my hands on my apron and take the keys out of the drawer. "It nothing special."

"I... I don't need special. Just a room," she gushes, following me to the hallway.

"You can either come through front door or use key for side door, if restaurant closed."

She nods her head and follows me up the stairs.

"Just small room with stove and refrigerator. I leave table if you want," I tell her, opening the door. Dust flies around the room that hasn't been occupied in so long. "Has big window." It's really the only selling point. Other than the good lighting, this place is shit.

"I'll take it."

**Mr. Chan**

I watch as the girl walks out the side door and offers me a small, shy smile and a wave when she sees me look up. She's lived here a couple of weeks, and she's probably only said a few words. Her rent is always on time. I never hear her when she's home, and she hasn't complained. I figured I'd at least hear about the leaky faucet in the bathroom, but I haven't. The only thing she's asked me was about a pair of binoculars she found in an old box that belonged to my uncle. I told her she could have them.

The story behind the man and the box is a long one. My uncle betrayed my father by marrying the girl he had been in love with while my father was deployed. Of course, when my father returned, he met my mother, and they eventually married, but he never forgave his brother. The box was the only thing he had from him after he died. He never read the letter inside or told me about the significance of the book. The binoculars had been his from the war. I never understood the items, but I've kept them all these years. They've sat in the small space collecting dust for the last twenty-five years.

I had my son do a background check on Bella. I wanted to know who she is and why she's in the city all alone. The only thing he could find on her is that she's originally from a small town a couple of hours from here and her father died about nine years ago. Her mother is in Freedmont after being picked up on possession. It was her fourth offense, and the court offered her six months in rehab instead of prison. Why a young woman like Bella would uproot her life in a small quiet town and move to a big city just to be close to a mother who I doubt has ever been there for her is a mystery to me.

**Mr. Chan**

"Hi, Mr. Chan," Bella says as she walks up to the counter. "Here's rent for this week."

I grunt and nod my head, busy with preparing for the evening rush of customers. "Lay it by register."

"Okay," she says meekly. "Oh, and I added ten extra dollars to cover the money I owed you for dinner."

I grunt again, but I don't need her to pay me back for food. I give it to her because she needs to eat more. She's lost weight since she moved here, and I hardly ever see her bring in groceries. Occasionally, she'll come in from work and have a sack with her from the store down the street, but that's only once every week or so.

"You eat dinner?" I ask, finally looking up from the cutting board.

"Oh, I'm not hungry." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. I don't believe her. I pour up a bowl of soup and then make a carton of rice. Before she gets to the stairs, I call out to her and hand her a bag. "Eat anyway."

She blushes and slowly takes the bag. "Thank you, Mr. Chan."

I smile and nod. "Don't pay me back," I instruct before going back to my work.

After a minute or so, I hear her quietly leave, taking the bag with her.

She's working so hard to look out for her mother. She needs someone to look out for her.

I'll look out for Bella.

**Mr. Chan**

Looking out the window of the restaurant, I see the same man who was with Bella a week or so ago. He's pacing in front of the building, but it's early.

I don't like it.

For a second, I think about walking up to Bella's apartment and telling her he's down here. I assume they're dating, but I'm not certain. If he's here unannounced and unwanted, I could tell him to leave.

I don't like people loitering outside my building.

A few minutes later, I hear the door upstairs close and then footsteps on the stairs. The door to the restaurant is still closed, so I watch for Bella to walk out the side door. I can tell by the way she's standing that she's caught off guard. I watch closely, waiting for any sign that she might need my help, but eventually, she relaxes and walks away with him.

I'm going to be keeping my eye on that one.

I don't trust him.

**Mr. Chan**

It's a busy night, and the restaurant is full. That makes me happy. Customers mean money.

What doesn't make me happy is that creepy fucker that I saw hanging outside of the building the other day. He's been back, and I don't like it.

Bella walks in, and she looks tired. I immediately go to the counter and pour her some soup. She should eat, and I know this is her favorite. Her eyes always light up when I hand her the brown paper bag. When I look back up to make sure I catch her before she goes upstairs, I see her talking to a man sitting at a table by the window. He likes her. I can tell by the way he looks at her. I've been around the block a time or two.

I watch them as he asks her to sit and she eventually does. Her posture is reserved and guarded. I'm glad. She should be. It's easy to be taken advantage of when you're beautiful like Bella. I don't think she notices her beauty. It's been covered up by responsibility and obligation. She doesn't get to live her life for herself. I've never met her mother, but I don't like her. Anyone who wouldn't want to love a girl like Bella is useless in my book.

She deserves more than that.

He makes her laugh.

Maybe he'll be okay.

We'll see.

**Mr. Chan**

Today, Bella came in, and she was upset. I could tell by the redness in her eyes. I wanted to ask, but I'm guessing it has something to do with the man she's been seeing from time to time. I'm not good at girl stuff. She needs a mother. I know the one she has isn't there for her. I guess the tears could be for the junkie. I've never disliked someone so much in my life.

Bella deserves better.

She's a sweet girl who cares for others without expecting anything in return. She's also responsible and thoughtful. I always thought that the way a person turned out depended on how they were raised, but Bella proves that some people are just born good. She has every reason in the world to make excuses for herself and succumb to the demons like her mother, but she doesn't. She also has every reason in the world to turn away from her mother and go make a life for herself, but she doesn't do that either.

I walk up the stairs and go to knock on her door to check on her, but I hear the sobs from inside and decide that maybe giving her some time alone is better.

.

.

.

.

The next morning, she comes down the stairs with resolve in her eyes. They're still red, but whatever she's setting out to do today, she looks determined. She tries to walk out without speaking to me, but I need to check on her, make sure she's okay.

"Bella," I call out, keeping my head down as I chop vegetables.

"Hi, Mr. Chan," she says, and I can hear the sadness in her voice.

"How's your mother?"

"She's, uh, getting better, I guess." She pauses, and her feet shift. There's more than what she's willing to say. "She's had some bad days," she finally says. "But it takes bad ones to get to the good ones, I suppose."

I can tell she's trying to force herself to believe that. I look up from the vegetables and look her over carefully. "You need to do what's right for Bella," I tell her. "Mother need to take care of herself. It be good for her."

I know I can't tell her what to do. As much as I like to think she's part of my family, she's not. I'm just the old man she rents a shitty room from. "Have good day, Bella," I tell her as I go back to chopping my vegetables.

"Thanks, Mr. Chan." There's a glimpse of happiness in her voice, and I hope she takes my advice. It's time she does something for herself. She deserves to be happy.

**Mr. Chan**

Bella moved out a few weeks ago, but tonight, _he's_ here. She didn't give me a lot of explanation as to why she would no longer be living upstairs. She simply said she needed to move, that it's what is best. I hope she means what is best for her. I hope she's taking my advice and taking care of Bella. At least she still comes by and sees me every Wednesday. I'd be more worried if she didn't.

It's Thursday, though, and Bella isn't here, so why is he?

"Can I have a cup of soup, please?" He doesn't look good tonight. His eyes are red and droopy, like he hasn't slept in days. He reminds me of how Bella has looked lately, and I wonder what has happened between them. If he has hurt that sweet girl in any way, I'll make him regret it.

"You not here with Bella?" I ask the pitiful man. I think I once heard Bella call him _Edward_.

The look of guilt that covers his face is unmistakable. He clears his throat before shaking his head.

I ladle the soup into a cup, and while he's taking his wallet out of his pocket, I quickly pour a generous dose of Mama Chan's five pepper sauce and mix it into the broth. As I hand the dinner to him, I give him an evil-eye glare that's sure to make his balls shrivel, and if the glare doesn't work, the soup is sure to do the job.

The restaurant is nice and quiet when I first hear the muffled coughing. I don't have to look at the man to know he just took his first sip of the soup. While I chop the vegetables in front of me, I notice him make frequent trips to refill his glass of water. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at him.

Eventually, he brings me his cup, and it's completely empty. _Impressive_.

His face is red, and his messy hair is drenched with sweat and plastered to his face. Again, laughter tries to escape my mouth, but I manage to swallow it before he notices.

"It was very good. Thank you." He grimaces before clearing his throat and walking out the front door.

I'm still not sure if he's the one Bella should be with, especially if he's the reason she's been so sad, but he's earned a tiny bit of respect back tonight.

**Mr. Chan**

The bell on the door chimes, and I glance up to see Bella walk through. It's her night. I've been expecting her. I can tell by the look in her eyes and the way she holds her shoulders that she's in a good place. I like this look on her. She's started taking classes at one of the local colleges, and she's working—a little more than I think she should, but if it makes her happy, then I guess it's okay.

Every Wednesday, she comes in and eats, and I let her help me, mostly because I enjoy her company. She tells me about her classes and work, but I still see the slight sadness in her eyes, and I have to guess that it lingers because of her mother. There's something else there too, though, something more than her disappointment of a mother. It's a hurt heart that comes from lost love. I've seen it before.

Mr. Chan's no dummy.

Every Thursday, Edward comes in and eats my hot soup. I see the same look in his eyes. Gradually, I've been easing up on the pepper sauce. I'm not ready to let him off the hook yet.

If he still thinks he's going to win Bella's forgiveness and her heart, I have to make sure he's worthy.

**Mr. Chan**

Last week, Edward showed up on a Wednesday… with Bella. For a while, I thought I was going to have to force them to see each other. I didn't want to have to interfere, but it was getting ridiculous. I couldn't take much more of the moping.

I watched them as they talked. Bella leaned in toward him, and I could tell she was starting to trust him again. Edward has seemed desperate when we've talked on his Thursday visits. He's started opening up about his feelings for Bella, and he's been sticking around after hours, sweeping floors, same thing Bella does on Wednesdays. Those two are more alike than they think. I knew it was only a matter of time before they found their way back to each other.

I'm no romantic, but I want Bella taken care of, and if Edward can do that, then I'll do what I can to make sure those two end up together.

Even if it means hiding ice cream in my freezer.

**Mr. Chan**

Bella's mom died today. Edward called the restaurant right before closing and said he just wanted to let me know. He seemed worn down and tired, but he assured me that he was taking care of Bella.

My heart hurts for the girl I've become so fond of, but I feel nothing but relief that her mother is no longer around to cause her pain.

My hope now is that she'll find a way to live and be happy.

**Mr. Chan**

One Year Later

I glance up to the door as the bell chimes, and I watch as Bella enters, followed closely by Edward. They both smile at me and take a seat at the long table by the window. I watch them as they sit close together. Edward can't keep his eyes off her, and I can see the love there. It makes an old man smile.

Since the first day I met Bella, I've known she needed someone in this world. Edward is her someone, which makes him one of my favorite people, by association. As long as he makes her happy, I'm happy.

I think we both have an understanding that when and if the time comes where he no longer makes her happy, he'll have to deal with me. I hope that time never comes.

Bella's laugh fills the small space, and it makes me smile even bigger.

For some reason, she feels indebted to me, but that's not necessary. She owes me nothing. However, I let her feel like she's paying me back by keeping me company one night a week.

"Hey, Mr. Chan," Alice calls out when she walks in the door. Bella's best friend is a spunky one. I like her.

"Mr. Chan, my man," Jasper says, walking up to the counter. "You got the good stuff tonight?" he asks, leaning over my counter.

"I fix you up," I tell him, continuing to stir my pan of vegetables. Jasper loves the hot stuff. When they found out about the pepper sauce I used to put in Edward's soup to teach him a lesson, Jasper asked if I could put it in his all the time.

He's crazy, that one.

A few minutes later, Rosalie walks in with Emmett in tow and Baby Emmy in the carrier.

And my restaurant fills with laughter and loud talking. Just the way I like it.

They meet here every Wednesday night. I pretend to work, but most of the time, I watch them, and I'm happy with what I see.

Bella's happy.

Edward's happy.

Their friends are all here.

My heart feels full.

* * *

 **A/Ns:**

 **Jenny Kate:** Well, our dear readers, this is the end. We've enjoyed taking this journey with all of you. It's been quite a ride, with lots of ups and downs, but we hope you enjoyed it!

 **Jiff:** This story was very different for us and it stretched us in ways we weren't expecting so, it really means a lot to us that you stuck with us.

 **Jenny Kate:** We hope you'll put us on alert and/or send us a friend request on Facebook. We have some exciting new things coming up!

 **Jiff:** Our Jiffy Kate group on FB is pretty fun, too, especially if you like Rob porn. Come join and say hi!

 **Jenny Kate:** We can't close this out without thanking our wonderful team: Geekchic12, Rachel, and Pamela! We couldn't have done this without them.

 **Jiff:** Until next time! MWAH!


End file.
